Chronic Boss Scholarship

My name is Jadelyn Lawson and I am a senior at Glenwood High School. I am currently a five-sport varsity athlete at Glenwood High School, as I actively participate in volleyball, cheerleading, softball, and track, and I am the captain of my male-dominated powerlifting team. I am the 6-year president of my graduating class, a member of the Glenwood Honor Society, and the founder and president of the only two clubs offered at my high school. I have been my high schools representative at the Hugh O'Brain Youth Leadership Conference (HOBY), Youth MAX, and the Scholar Leaders Program, and I am a proud graduate of The Ohio State University MD Camp. I have been considered a leader by my coaches, teacher, and peers on and off the court, and in and out of the classroom. Shortly, my goal is to graduate top of my class as valedictorian. I then plan to attend Shawnee State University and obtain a business degree. During college, will hold a job at Genesis Oxygen and Home Medical Equipment during school to gain experience in sales. Upon graduation, I will pursue my dream of becoming a pharmaceutical sales representative, and eventually open several small businesses in my community to boost the local economy. Aside from my academics and academics, my character has also been shaped by having an autoimmune disorder. I have been affected by the signs and symptoms of an autoimmune disorder my entire life, and at nine years old I was diagnosed with hypogammaglobulinemia. Throughout my life, I have had viral meningitis seven times, received two blood transfusions, suffer frequent migraines, and have been more susceptible to things like the flu, strep throat, and pneumonia. I also now receive subcutaneous infusions twice weekly to boost my immune system. After learning about the importance of genetic history as it pertains to an autoimmune disorder, my family participated in a series of tests. We soon learned that almost everyone in my immediate family was affected by an autoimmune disorder and that I would likely be diagnosed with one or more of them later in life. To turn my and my family's struggle into strength, I made an impact on my community through my community service project "Show Your Stripes: Autoimmune Awareness". With this project, I was able to hold a community car show with over 60 registered cars and 300 guests. Here, I was able to speak about the signs and symptoms of autoimmune disorders, how the mental health of a patient with an autoimmune disorder may be affected, and the importance of blood donation as it pertains to them. After hosting this event, I was able to donate $300 worth of toys to Cincinnati Children’s Hospital instead of a monetary donation and collect 25 pints of blood at a blood drive. I was also able to speak about my platform in daily conversation and hand out awareness bracelets. I handed out 200 of these bracelets, including one to Governor Mike Dewine. I found purpose within my service project, and I believe my passion made a significant impact on myself and my community.

When I was sixteen, I stopped being able to eat without severe abdominal pain. I was diagnosed with a rare disease called superior mesenteric artery syndrome. I was one of the lucky ones whose symptoms resolved entirely with surgery. However, I “met” many patients online who were not so lucky or who were told their symptoms were all in their heads. This sparked my interest in rare disease advocacy and becoming a physician. In college, I joined RareND, Notre Dame’s rare disease awareness club. I served as president and established RareND as one of the first National Organization for Rare Disorders student clubs in the country. With other members of the RareND board, I developed a mobile app prototype called ZEBRA to unify the rare disease community. Our app won third place out of 85+ teams in the Notre Dame-SAP App Competition. During my sophomore year, I sustained a traumatic brain injury that caused me to develop continuous eye pain. It took three years for me to be diagnosed with chronic atypical migraine. Determined not to give up on my dream of becoming a physician, I took two gap years after college to focus on my health and gain more clinical experience. Once in medical school, I co-founded University of Illinois Students for Rare to raise awareness for rare diseases among medical students. During my third year, my autoimmune disease called juvenile idiopathic arthritis (JIA) came out of remission for the first time since high school. My rheumatologist prescribed naproxen. It helped my JIA, but my ears started to ring loudly. We stopped the medication, but the ringing became worse. Soon, all noises started to sound increasingly loud. It wasn’t long before everyday sounds caused lasting burning and stabbing pain in my ears, even while wearing ear plugs and ear muffs. I was forced to put my in-person rotations on hold and switch to virtual electives. I became mostly homebound. I had developed a condition called pain hyperacusis. This was nine months ago and I’ve only seen mild improvement. My doctors wonder whether my JIA or brain injury could have been predisposing factors. Research into pain hyperacusis is in its infancy and there are no proven treatments. Thanks to pain hyperacusis, my five-year relationship ended and I’ve lost the ability to be in typical public places or even speak normally. At times, I’ve wanted to throw in the towel, but I didn’t come this far to give up. Just like I have in the past, I decided to “make lemonade out of lemons.” I began applying for grants on behalf of the nonprofit Hyperacusis Research. My proposals have been awarded $25,000 so far. I also started the Hyperacusis Research Amazon Store as another fundraising avenue. I’ve begun publishing interviews with every researcher and clinician in the world who has any experience with pain hyperacusis. Slowly but surely, strides are being made towards developing a better understanding of the condition, which will hopefully lead to treatment options. Once it becomes possible for me, I plan to start an integrative medicine practice focused on whole-person healthcare, in which I can spend ample time with each patient. This type of care is out of reach for many individuals, so my dream is to dedicate a few days per month to providing this care free of charge so that it is accessible to all. I will be a staunch advocate for my patients, especially those going through long medical “odysseys” like those I have experienced. I have no idea how my story develops from here, but I’m embracing the detours for now.

I awoke one morning feeling exhausted, as if I hadn't slept at all.I brushed it off as a sleepless night and blamed my busy schedule for my tiredness. But as the days went by, I became even more lethargic. The nagging feeling that something was off persisted.My energy levels continued to decline and even the most simple tasks became quite difficult. Getting out of bed seemed like an agonizing process. My once glossy, thick hair started to weaken and fall out, and I quickly started gaining weight. Perhaps the most alarming sign was the brain fog that enveloped me. My once-sharp mind now struggled to focus, and my memory betrayed me. I experienced these symptoms for months before realizing I needed to seek help. I started consulting doctors over these issues. My attempts to explain the seriousness of my symptoms, nevertheless, were met with silence. Doctors dismissed my concerns and advised rest and relaxation, attributing my fatigue to stress. One doctor went so far as to suggest that I could treat my lack of energy simply by beginning a weight-lifting regimen. My attempts to get medical attention were hampered by financial constraints. It involved sacrificing a day's work or using money intended for necessities for every doctor's appointment. I was stuck in a cycle of neglect, and the luxury of putting my health first seemed like a far-off dream. In a last ditch effort, my mother and I used a credit card to travel to Mexico to receive affordable medical care. There I finally received the necessary blood test and was finally diagnosed with a hypothyroidism disease called Hashimotos. Looking down at the paper, my hands shook. I struggled to pronounce the name of my disease. After being overlooked and dismissed for so long, I discovered a newfound sense of empowerment. While navigating the challenges of my treatment, something had changed within me. I delved deeper into the complexities of thyroid conditions and became fascinated. My desire to learn more grew stronger. Searching for ways to immerse myself in the field of medicine, I discovered UC Irvine's Summer Medical Research Program, which offered full scholarships to some students. With a tuition of 3000 dollars, the idea of attending the summer program seemed intangible. With a mix of uncertainty and excitement, I applied for the program, pouring my heart into the application essay. A few weeks later, I received a letter of acceptance along with the news that I had earned a full scholarship. While in the program I spent my summer studying the fundamentals of medicine and medical research with a focus on disparities in the treatment of pediatric migraines. I gathered information from numerous research papers and collaborated on the co-writing of an abstract that was later accepted for presentation into the Western Student and Resident Medical Research Forum and published in J Investigative Medicine. The summer program marked a turning point in my life and resulted in significant changes. I learned about disparities in the treatment of patients and the importance of equity in healthcare. My awareness was further enhanced when I learned about the circumstances in Palestine, which inspired me to form my own humanitarian organization, Feed The Dreams. This enabled me to collaborate with politicians and Palestinians to share their stories with our youth. This experience not only allowed me to mature as a person, but it also fueled my passion to collaborate with people and serve others. The situation emphasized to me that even in the face of one's own challenges, there is potential for growth in oneself.

Balance is crucial for life, but the scales of my life have always tipped against me. At the age of two, I was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis. An untreatable, life-threatening genetic lung condition. As a kid, I knew nothing of a "normal life." My normalcy consisted of struggles with medications, hospital stays, IV drips, difficulty breathing, and relentless coughing. I never knew any other life; I knew only of my life. At the age of twelve, however, everything changed. I found a girl my age on YouTube who had a life very much like mine. She also had cystic fibrosis and was showing her morning routine, which, to my surprise, was exactly like my own. Right then, the realization hit me. Discovering a part of myself was thrilling, but that feeling was short-lived when I started to research my illness thoroughly. With research, I was enlightened about the weight of my illness. I felt a pang of sorrow and a troubling sadness when I realized that my illness would further tip the scales of my already short life. No one around me understood the weight of emotions I felt at such a young age and how difficult it was to cope with them. To question your mortality, your very existence, due to something you had no control over. I had been blissfully ignorant of my life’s severe challenges before then, but now I knew better and wished I didn’t. At age thirteen, I took up writing. I wrote about all my thoughts, poems, short stories, songs- anything and everything. Writing became my passion. Talking helps, but for me, writing was different; it gave me a sense of control and normalcy I so hopelessly wished for. At age fourteen, a new medication arrived, and a life-changing transformation occurred: I got "normal." I wasn't underweight anymore; I started breathing better, coughing less, and sleeping peacefully at night. I had never been better, and with that, my motivation to continue writing grew.  At age fifteen, I started writing for our local library blog page. I wrote poems, observations, and literature reviews. By doing so, I took my first step toward publishing my skills, which, little did I know then, was my turning page for yet another self-discovery. When junior year arrived, I initiated rebuilding the Newspaper Club at my school. The school Newspaper, The Owl, had been shut down for 15 years before my co-editor and I brought it back to life. I became not just the co-founder but also the co-editor of the newspaper, now rebranded by us as The Owl Gazette. Being the co-editor has honed my writing, editing, managing, networking, and advocating skills. I started the newspaper to bring something new to our school. Writing was my way of expressing myself initially, but now I wanted to widen my goals and upscale my passion. I am determined to do journalism because, in my childhood experience, I felt hidden and underrepresented. That’s why I am crafting this newspaper to be inclusive to all students with various talents so students can stay informed, present their writing skills, and be recognized as a part of our school. My passion for writing has completely changed my perspective on life and my part in it. I refuse to hide in the shadows from myself or others. The scales of life have always been unbalanced, but I have learned that if I want that vital essence of balance, I must balance them myself. Though I was unaware, I have always possessed that control, and with that realization, I am tipping the scale to equilibrium.

Living with a chronic medical condition presented enormous challenges, yet I have overcome and live with persistence and passion. My struggles started after I was diagnosed with celiac disease. “I want to grow N-O-W!” was the only thought my four-year-old self cared about. As a Kindergartener, I was smaller than the smallest Pre-K three-year-old because of damage caused by celiac. Between my size and food restrictions, I felt different and sad. Even after years of endoscopies, the results convinced my doctor that I was somehow eating gluten. Even worse, the doctor blamed me and my parents for seemingly eating gluten. That was until Dr. Fasano, a world-renowned gastroenterologist uncovered that I had a rare case of celiac that was unresponsive to a gluten-free diet. My new treatment plan was a severely restrictive diet with zero processed foods, requiring my mom to prepare my food from the garden. Though I excelled at school, enjoyed friendships, and danced competitively my sadness and anxiety became unmanageable when in 2020, I developed anorexia. People do not notice how much food plays a role in life until they are deprived of it. I became addicted to being as small as possible, as I found something I could finally control. I had taken out years of worry and anger on my body. In October 2020, I was admitted as an inpatient to Renfrew Eating Disorder Center where I met Alaina my current therapist, who saved my life through our hard work together. I learned that health and life are precious, and not guaranteed. I became passionate about sharing my story and inspiring others so that they, too, can reach recovery. My therapist, Alaina, supported me no matter how difficult my situation became, reminding me again and again- You Got This. Our hard work together beginning in 2020, her support, patience, and perseverance, has brought me so much closer to inner freedom. My goal is to pursue my passions in social entrepreneurship. In 2023 I launched a startup, an online business, VogueVilla (https://voguevilla.net/) out of my wish to offer styles for all sizes and shapes and inspire teens to feel confident. My Voguevilla mission includes sharing my dream by donating clothes to teens in need. I am an ideal candidate for this scholarship as I have worked intensely to overcome the challenges of celiac disease and anorexia and through these hardships, have gained resilience and now and in the future will use my strengths to help others in the community. My recovery has motivated me to work toward social justice including lobbying in Washington DC for the proper labeling of gluten free medications, fundraising for Beyond Celiac, a non-profit celiac organization, mentoring newly diagnosed children with celiac, and volunteering at a preschool in an underserved community. In 2023, I was selected to participate in Young Entrepreneurs Academy (https://yeausa.org/) where we meet weekly to develop our businesses, which I will continue to build on with my college education focusing on communications, social media, and entrepreneurship. When my business becomes profitable, I will donate a portion of each sale to organizations that serve teen girls in need. I plan to collaborate with experts to create a mentoring program, called “You Got This” to instill feelings of hope among those facing challenges such as eating disorders, and dietary restrictions. I will strive to be a source of inspiration by continuing to advocate for mental health and financial resources and to normalize the struggles and the healing. Through mentorship programs and by sharing my success story, other teens will know recovery is possible. I Got This!

Hello, I am Erin Munda, a Filipina artist and caregiver who attends Los Angeles County High School for the Arts and I have anxiety. My first panic attack occurred when I was just in 5th grade and I have struggled with it for the past 6 years. Triggered by stress from school, overstimulation, and home situations, I’ve had to endure countless nights of hyperventilation, silent crying, and a looming miserable feeling. I started therapy two years ago, not making much progress, and my anxiety worsened. It was only until I had a terrible panic attack where I was banging on the wall, screaming for help, and felt as if I was being suffocated when I was given a prescription for anxiety medication. After I was told that I had anxiety and taught how to manage it, my anxiety decreased. I’d like to help others realize sometimes negative feelings are a result of an invisible illness and encourage them to seek help in times of need. My anxiety is rooted in the expectations I have for myself and the expectations others have for me. I have always had to uphold my parents' expectations, as the perfect daughter and caretaker of my mom. She has an incurable auto-immune disease called scleroderma which affects her lungs, ability to breathe, and more recently, her vision, making her partially blind, ridden with coughing attacks, and unable to be active for long periods. Her symptoms first started while she was pregnant with me. In some ways, I felt responsible for her sickness. While I was in fourth grade, she was admitted to the hospital for two weeks because of a virus her immune system could not fight off because she’d been taking immunosuppressants to lessen the effects of the scleroderma. It was during this time when I almost lost my mom that I realized I had to be perfect, to lessen any stress on her, so her condition wouldn’t get worse. For as long as I remember it has been my responsibility to be her caretaker, tend to her and work uphold household chores that she can’t do. I am inspired by doctors who perform life-saving and life-changing surgeries, and I aspire to be like them and give back to my community. I have found community and understanding in others who have struggled/are struggling with anxiety. Both my parents have had chemical imbalances that incite extreme anxiety. I also have friends who battle against invisible illnesses. This community of people has provided me with a certain comfort that they know how to help me, as they have had similar experiences before. People who share the hardship that comes with having an invisible illness have made me less alone in my mental health journey. These experiences have given me the goal of shattering the stigma surrounding mental health and assisting people with invisible illnesses to find community in others. I have created “Damaged Bears,” a brand aimed at achieving understanding, empathy, and unity for those who struggle with invisible illnesses. I’ve designed teddy bears representing different invisible illnesses, taking inspiration from universal symptoms and personal experiences. I’ve chosen the tagline “We’re all a little damaged” to emphasize that we all have different struggles and these different experiences are what make us unique. It lets people pride themselves on their struggles, and see them as a strength rather than a weakness.

When I received my diagnosis of hidradenitis (HS), I had to face a new challenge in a world that was already not built for me. I was born with cerebral palsy (CP), a physical disability that affects my balance and fine motor skills. My CP is highly visible; I use a walker and an electric wheelchair to navigate my college campus. When I discovered the cyst under my arm, I initially felt a wave of insecurity; could people see the cyst under my left arm when I used my walker? How do I navigate the pain, drainage, and itchiness? With an amazing team of dermatologists, plastic surgeons, and my own mother, who was diagnosed with HS in 1984, we work together through a variety of treatments to manage my symptoms as cysts appear or flare and allow me to live my life to the fullest. I have a newfound empathy for those with invisible disabilities and I am becoming a fiercer advocate for all disabled people. Armed with my extracurricular leadership skills, I co-founded and am Co-President of Colorado College Disability Alliance, a student-led affinity group for those with disabilities (physical, learning, autoimmune, etc.). This group creates an inclusive space within our campus community to come together, understand each other, and fight for change. This includes a yearly Self-Advocacy Workshop, where we think through how to respond to scenarios in which we need to advocate for ourselves. My experiences with both hidradenitis and cerebral palsy have made me acutely aware of including ALL types of disabilities in community conversations around disability. The community I gained and leaned on during treatments allowed me to be a fearless leader in my own community, leading to more self-confidence in the process. I still have bad flares and days where my CP makes me stiff while my cysts cause pain, but I've improved my self-care, self-advocacy, and network. I am strong enough to advocate for others, but I also know how to lean on my network of friends (especially other disabled folks) to get me through when I have a bad day. I will do the same for them, and that means showing up however I can and taking their access needs into account. I have become strong through managing my symptoms and strengthening my community, but the interdependence I have fostered among my friends and peers makes me stronger. As I continue to navigate my journey with hidradenitis, I am now able to view my HS as a strength and not a setback. Living with HS and consistently overcoming its struggles has allowed me to deeply appreciate and understand the disability community and navigate the world with flexibility and resiliency. As I gained new skills while managing both my disabilities, it further fueled my desire to use my voice for solidarity and change.

My experience living with an autoimmune disease has shaped who I am today in several ways. After two years of fighting a mystery illness, I was diagnosed with a rare autoimmune disease, celiac disease. Since then, I have authored five children’s books, with three specifically about how to live a happy and healthy life while maintaining a strict gluten-free diet. As part of my activism for the celiac and food allergy communities, I have been privileged to partner with FARE (Food Allergy Research & Education). As part of this partnership, I have spent time on Capitol Hill lobbying for legislation like the ADINA Act, which legally requires non-food items like prescriptions to have food allergen warning labels. I have educated others through health principles relating to celiac disease. As part of this work, I have met with and gained support from several legislators. This lobbying experience, coupled with my experiences teaching students and adults at schools, libraries, businesses, and hospitals, has made the study of health communication not just a passion but also essential to my career goals. I will be earning my Master of Arts degree in Communication with a concentration in Health Communication from Johns Hopkins University starting in Fall 2024. The field of health communication first had a significant impact on my life when I was seven years old, and my Dad was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. There are several reasons why this degree is significant with my journey of having an autoimmune disease. First and foremost, I will use this degree to continue to help others who have celiac and/or a food allergy. I hope to earn a doctorate degree in public health upon completion of my master’s degree. This scholarship can help me fight the financial burden of graduate school. If granted this scholarship, it will help propel me towards earning this degree and further helping others with autoimmune disease like celiac disease and multiple sclerosis. I intend to publish more books and conduct and publish studies focusing on best practice methods for physicians. I believe rural medicine is the reason it took me two years to get diagnosed with celiac disease. Part of the research I would like to study focuses on minimizing the knowledge-gap so many people experience in rural areas. Similarly, I am interested in studying several areas of health communication. For example, I am interested in eventually learning about the mental health effects of book bans. I started a literary nonprofit in my rural Appalachian hometown after a board member for my county’s board of education talked about banning LGBTQIA+ books in local schools. We repeatedly hear people in educational meetings argue that book bans are harmful or helpful while rarely citing empirical research to support their opinion. Additionally, my experience as a Community Engagement Coordinator with the National MS Society is a testament to my interest in the health communication field. I coordinated talks between patients and pharmaceutical companies. I also led social media marketing campaigns and member recruitment campaigns. I gained experience that fortified my professional interest in public relations principles, strategies, and methods specific to health communication to promote positive healthcare outcomes. Studying health communication is only one of many ways to help promote patient satisfaction and patient care. Awarding me this scholarship will undoubtedly be an investment that will yield unlimited dividends by helping me develop the technical expertise to make a substantive contribution in healthcare and in the lives of people with autoimmune diseases.

It all started with daydreaming. When I was bedridden I would daydream avidly for hours as an escape. Although my autoimmune disease has taken a lot from me, it’s also given me things too. When my body was an anchor, art became my life jacket. I learned to have an appreciation for it. As a little girl, I would watch cartoons for hours and wish to be the characters on screen. They became my heroes because they got me through hard times. The one that left the biggest impact on me was Raven from Teen Titans. She was studious, quiet, and courageous; but most of all she made me feel understood. Although Raven is a fictional character, she brought me so much strength throughout the challenges I’ve had to overcome. It was this experience that transformed me into an artist. I knew I wanted to create characters that inspired other people the way that Raven inspired me. Art allowed me to sail beyond the confines of my pain into a world brimming with limitless possibilities. A world I never would’ve discovered if it hadn't been for my disease. I started drawing because I wanted to turn my dreams into a reality, into something I could see. From there it blossomed into stories and at some point I realized that drawing wasn’t enough, so I started writing too. Though the physical pain that made me hyper-aware of every muscle in my body, it was when I was creating that I felt the most alive. I committed to practicing daily to improve my abilities. My sketchbook became a rabbit hole of different ideas, It was filled with everything from wayward princesses to aliens. I dabbled in different mediums: watercolor, acrylic, colored pencils, pastels, etc. However, it wasn’t until I discovered digital art, that I truly committed to my passion and realized I wanted to pursue art professionally. Unlike with traditional mediums there was no complicated set up, or a mess to clean up afterwards. My ipad allowed me to design, ink, and render characters with ease. This inspired me to draw more consistently and it helped me improve at an accelerated pace. At the age of twelve, I committed to my career goals and decided to dedicate myself entirely towards perfecting my art, as I aspired to be a professional character designer. Supported by my mom’s encouragement to sell my art, we went to several local art fairs where I sold prints of my characters. Additionally, after gaining recognition, I had my work featured in two gallery exhibitions. After this, I created a website to sell prints beyond my local area. My goal is to eventually write and illustrate my stories professionally. I love art because it allows me to turn my dreams and characters into something tangible and gives me the opportunity to connect with other people and empower them the way that I have been empowered.

Life doesn't always give us choices. I, Josie Kellaway, was faced with the reality of this statement at a young age when I was diagnosed with type 1 Diabetes. This turn of events did not come with an instruction manual, but it did offer me a unique perspective on life. Today, I stand firm as a determined social work student, a compassionate author, a startup entrepreneur, and most importantly, a resilient person transforming challenges into sources of strength. Hence, I am applying for this scholarship, confident of its potential to further boost my journey. My story begins when I was eight years old when I was diagnosed with type 1 youth diabetes. At the time, I didn't understand the massive impact the situation would have on my life. Having Diabetes meant that I would never be like everyone else. I will always have financial burdens and hardships. I can’t last a day without my medicine. If I don’t eat food, I could have a seizure and die. I would be lying if I told you that I wasn't scared. In fact, there were even times in my life when I was jealous of others for ‘Being normal.’ I made some bad decisions. By the time I was in high school, My A1C was so high that the monitor could not read it. It was at that point in my life when I realized that I needed to do something. I needed to change something, or I would die. I discovered writing and entrepreneurship, slowly transforming my greatest hurdle into my biggest driving force. As a kid, I often dreamed about living in another world entirely. Through my writing, I created that world. I am Josie Kellaway, a compassionate author, a start-up entrepreneur, and a dedicated social work student. Eterna Studios was born. My business is entirely based on my book series. I am writing a high fantasy series, and selling them on Amazon. I Sell products on my website Eternastudios8.com. My sister and I have together built something to be proud of. In April, the third book in the series comes out, soon followed by the rest of the series. Writing and Entrepreneurship pulled me out of the darkness. This scholarship, concise in its offering, holds the potential for growth and impact. Each ounce of support brings me a step closer to my dreams: expanding my business, helping others through my degree in social work, and moving to the vibrant city of New York. It's about empowering myself to empower others, about ensuring we all feel seen, valued, and supported despite our health statuses. To sum up, I am not just a person living with diabetes, but a person living with purpose, resilience, and passion. I've turned the odds in my favor, converting a life-altering diagnosis into a source of personal and professional success. In this scholarship, I see an opportunity to continue my journey.

When everyday activities I used to take for granted, like walking to class or brushing my teeth, became unbearably painful, I knew I had to shift my perspective. The chronic condition I have affects at least 1 in every 7 adults globally and is the second most disabling disease, according to the World Health Organization and National Library of Medicine. In the United States alone, about 30 million women suffer too. As a student at Northeastern University, I’ve discovered new passions that reinvigorated my inner strength. I developed an appreciation for marketing, accounting, advisory services, data analytics, and making an impact in my communities, which helped me realize that my physical limits did not limit who I am as a person. In class, I spearhead group projects, problem-solve, and produce strong deliverables. I lead class discussions and ask questions to deepen my learning, helping me achieve Dean’s List each semester with a summa cum laude GPA of 3.96. I know my chronic pain disability does not impact my quality of work since I work twice as hard to raise the bar, so I strengthened my self-advocacy skills by contacting copious Northeastern alumni on LinkedIn while trying to find a co-op. I built lasting relationships with them via informational interviews, and, in the end, I created my own Marketing Lead position with a local Boston entrepreneur. While on co-op, I established my own marketing consultant firm with three real-world clients and over 100k views on social media so far. I am incredibly proud to have been invited by the D'Amore-McKim School of Business to join the Beta Gamma Sigma honor society for students who will graduate in the top 10% of their class. While chronic vestibular migraines and vertigo can feel all consuming, I’ve turned to creative outlets to express my resilience. I currently participate in open mic nights on campus and won second place at Northeastern’s talent competition in 2021 for a live performance of an original song about my disease. Last semester, Northeastern’s Artistry Magazine wrote a feature article about the advocacy work I do through my singer-songwriter talent in their Evergreen issue. I joined an activist rock band where I write songs that call for inclusivity and accessibility for all. In my field of business, I serve as a mentor for the Women In Business club, where I inspire underclassmen to find the confidence to carve out space for themselves at Northeastern despite challenges, just as I have. I am a member of the Delta Alpha Pi International Honor Society for students with disabilities and was accepted into the inaugural class of Accenture x Northeastern Disability Leadership Cohort for career-minded students ready to take on life after college. I understand the importance of speaking up for my communities and raised over $270 last cycle for the American Migraine Foundation by selling my art. I turned my struggle into strength by redefining what it means to be me: intelligent, creative, vocal, and proud.

If your face swells up when you eat peanuts, you tend to be vigilant and avoid it at all costs. But, I cannot escape my trigger because I am allergic to myself. After six months of irritability, hair and weight loss, and fatigue, I thought it couldn’t get any worse. And then it did. A Thyroid Storm, a life-threatening condition where the thyroid creates an abnormal amount of hormones, had my heart racing at over 160 BPM. The endocrinologist described the symptoms as 8 cups of coffee simultaneously whirling through my 60-pound body. Blood tests revealed that I had Graves’ disease. Endless pills, weekly blood work, and daily blood pressure checks became my routine. Chronic spontaneous urticaria came next. The condition causes hives that coat your body from head to toe. Your face, arms, and feet swell to the point where you can hardly move. Medications had zero effect, and eventually, I had no choice but to remove my thyroid. While my hair began growing back and my strength returned post-surgery, I was told the hives were likely a condition I’d have to live with. To get back to my life, I needed to adapt and distract from the constant itch. As I learned to tune out my condition, I started mentally itching for something else. Like a sudden outbreak of hives, my desire to help others exploded. To endure the symptoms, I discovered a kind of healing salve: developing fundraisers. Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia’s Thyroid Center seemed like the perfect place to start. The staff helped me heal, and I wanted to support the children at that hospital whose suffering I understood so intimately. In the sixth grade, I formed my own travel agency and created custom travel itineraries in exchange for donations. Despite my young age, I made a website, acquired clients, and ultimately donated the proceeds. Forgive me for leaning too hard into the medical metaphor, but the experience of executing that fundraiser sparked a kind of infection that I have not been able to shake. By ninth grade, I enlisted friends to organize a 5k to provide tuition for campers at my local recreation camp. Focusing on fundraisers was helping me create new ways to make a difference, but the experience was also scratching that ever-present itch! Pretty soon, I married my business and philanthropic interests. I treated each fundraiser as an entrepreneurial venture, strategizing to increase revenues and cut costs, marketing on social media, and developing pitches for local companies. So far, I’ve created over twenty-one fundraising events, raising over $18,000 for twelve nonprofits. Each new project led to the next, and as I moved along, I was bringing people with me. My little team went door to door collecting art materials for the local hospital. By the time I started an initiative to work in a restaurant where all proceeds went to the local ASPCA, that group had grown to over twenty! Influencing others inspired me to create my own TEDx event. I enlisted a team of teen leaders, spearheaded a marketing campaign, and collaborated with TEDx officials to spread the surge of community action. The experience demonstrated that philanthropy isn’t just about fundraising. It’s about creating an infectious wave in your community so that others join the push for change. So, what’s the cure when you’re allergic to yourself? Through restless nights, weekly doctors’ appointments, and painful red hives, I have never seen my condition as a limitation. Rather, my unusual circumstances led to an obsession with philanthropy, and against doctor’s orders, this is one itch I plan to keep on scratching!

The genuine feeling of relief and the sinking of my gut all in one, came to me as I got the call of my diagnosis as a sophomore in high school. This news hit me pretty hard in the first few weeks that I had been diagnosed. I felt that if anyone found out they would treat me differently or I wouldn't be able to follow my passions in life. With that being said I couldn't be more thankful for the clear understanding of what was wrong and the learning experience that came along with it. It has taught me to adapt and work ten times harder for what I want to accomplish. As I went through sophomore year in high school I was a part of a Farm Power Team for FFA that would change my life. They had no clue what was going on behind the scenes but they made me feel included and encouraged me in my curiosity of agricultural mechanics. That following year I became invested in tractor restoration projects through a local program, allowing me to pursue my newfound passions. As I felt as if nothing would get better, tractors came my way and allowed me an out from the reality of the situation. Mechanics work is no small task and requires bounds of energy and strength. I learned to push through the groggy downs of Hoshimotos and take on smaller tasks to allow my body a recovery phase while still making progress. As a multi-sports athlete, the importance of maintaining a routine and workout plan became vitally clear. Workouts and physical exercise along with healthy eating gave me great amounts of relief from my daily battles. Though oftentimes I fought with the never-ending cycle where activity made symptoms worse and I was too ill to get back into the routines that would make it all better. The first week after every low point was the most brutal, pushing myself to not give in to the sluggish symptoms and tiredness. With a lot of support, I was able to improve greatly over the next few years as I continued the journey into adulthood and my career pathways. I now run "THAT TRACTOR CHICK," an antique tractor restoration business that provides mechanical assistance, apparel and more in an attempt to encourage young ladies in the field of mechanics. Finding my niche and learning how to work around the hiccups that life throws at me has been an incredible experience that I wouldn't trade for the world. Over the past few years, I have made it a priority in life to find new ways to exercise, not only for health benefits but it greatly increases my ability to be independent as a 5'2" mechanic. I can confidently move over 250 lbs in parts while wearing a smile. The health complications that I faced were there for a reason. They stopped my plans dead in their tracks and rerouted me with a better adventure. It gave me an opportunity of a lifetime, building unique skill sets, and a work ethic like no other. I am most definitely not perfect, but no one is, and I will forever accept any challenge thrown at me with a wide smile and an attitude of "game on!"

When I was seven years old, I helped plan my grandma’s 70th birthday party. I had my little hands all over it – sending invitations, hanging decorations, baking the cake and entertaining the crowd – no task was too big or small. And it may seem crazy to know what you want to do from such a young age, but since that time, I have been working toward the goal of becoming a professional event planner. I have also been living with Lyme disease. After the pain and fatigue, the most difficult part of having Lyme in my life is working around the many food constraints that are required to maintain an anti-inflammatory diet. As you can imagine, my job as an event planner involves food. And I mean good food that is hard to resist. Much of my day is spent helping others make food choices for their events. I don’t know if I would say that having an autoimmune disease has shaped me into who I am today. However, I would say it has made me a more compassionate person and understanding of others’ issues and frailties. It has also inspired me to help in ways I may not have had I not been living with Lyme. For example, growing up I was shy and didn’t like talking in public. There were many times I wanted to speak up, but I wasn’t always comfortable making my point in a crowd. By middle school, I was participating in groups that required me to speak publicly and it was very uncomfortable. It was then I decided if I had to be a public speaker, I would do whatever it took to become a good, if not a great, one. Through hard work and determination, I conquered my fear – and realized I could help others conquer theirs as well. So, I developed the free public speaking training event called “Speak Out!” for low-income middle school students six years ago. I led “Speak Out!” for four years while I was in high school, devoting 600+ hours and training more than 100+ middle-school participants, seven of whom earned tuition scholarships. “Speak Out!” was promoted on schools’ websites, newsletters and in the local media. Word of the event has reached more than 200,000 people so far. The magazine and newspaper articles and five-minute video links here summarize some of the work I have done to make “Speak Out!” successful: https://youtu.be/zKnRbePKC8A and http://www.parishtimes.com/uploads/8/3/6/6/8366083/march_2017.pdf (page 35) and https://bethesdamagazine.com/bethesda-magazine/march-april-2019/top-teens/5/. Upon starting college and being faced with a global pandemic shortly thereafter that would make teaching middle school students in a face-to-face setting impossible, I decided to retool “Speak Out!” to an online event and offer it to adults to help them overcome their public speaking fears too. Much like my event for ‘tweens, the requests keep coming. In closing, “Speak Out!” came to be only because I was open to the needs of others due to my own struggles of living with Lyme. Through my experience with this autoimmune disease, I have learned to be more compassionate toward others and in this case, I was able to help them find their voices when they believed they did not have one.

Type one diabetes impacts everything I do. From schoolwork to sports to socializing to even just sleeping, I am constantly worried about keeping my blood sugar within a healthy range. It is an endless struggle and I never get a break. When I was first diagnosed, I found this daily uphill battle to be too much for me, and I wanted to think about the disease as little as possible. But as time went on, I got better at my management and became more connected with the T1D community. This is what truly inspired me to want to give back and help support others who live with this autoimmune disorder. Advocacy is so important. We need to use our voices and share our stories so that the people in power know how urgent it is to provide affordable healthcare and policies that make sense for the people who will be affected by them. In 2019, I took part in the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation’s (JDRF) Children’s Congress, where I went to Washington D.C. to meet with my congressional representatives to advocate for increased funding for diabetes research. Since then I regularly meet with my local policymakers and have spoken at televised press conferences about why it is so important to cap the cost of insulin, a life-saving drug that should be accessible to anyone who needs it. Aside from advocacy, another important aspect of living with T1D is being a part of the community. I often help plan and run local educational events. Through JDRF I was a Youth Advocacy Leader where I volunteered and spoke about my T1D experiences at fundraising walks. I am now on the leadership team for their new Advocates in Action program that seeks to promote engagement and advocacy in young adults impacted by T1D. My newly diagnosed 11-year-old self would have never considered a career even remotely related to diabetes; I thought that I dealt with the disease enough in my personal life. But these experiences have allowed me to truly find my passion for health care, especially in the field of diabetes. I am currently developing Daia, which is an app to help with managing blood sugar levels, especially during difficult situations. If you are working out, going to a sleepover, going to a party, or going to be in any situation where you are concerned about your blood sugar, Daia allows you to share your blood sugar and location with select emergency contacts for a designated period of time. If your blood sugar does drop dangerously low, the user’s phone will display relevant medical information so somebody near them who may know nothing about diabetes can hopefully help them out. There are times when I am tired and overwhelmed. While my struggle has made me stronger, it is still just that - a struggle. Despite this, I am motivated by my support system and my desire to improve the lives of other diabetics which allows me to make my pain productive and hopefully make a difference in the world of diabetes and beyond.

"For years, I fully embraced the role of a victim in my situation. So when I became a young widow in my early 20s, I nearly gave up—I attempted to take my life. " Life isn't always easy, yet that always felt like an understatement for me. As a survivor of childhood trauma, pain felt like a requirement for life. The physical pain and emotional suffering I felt when I was barely in middle school always seemed inevitable. I knew I was different, and I desperately tried to hide it. At 5'10, with a slight frame of 140 pounds, I looked like a normal and healthy teenager. But, I had to work diligently to hide the unbearable pain I faced daily. I dreaded those hot summer days that most teens look forward to. Going to the amusement park with friends was a recipe for disaster because, with every step I would take, my feet, legs, back, and neck ached. I felt alone and misunderstood. I didn't get my first official medical diagnosis until my early twenties. Then the list continued to grow—Hashimoto's thyroiditis, endometriosis, fibromyalgia, IBS, Excema, Major Depression, Social Anxiety, and a neurological disorder (to name a few). My life has always revolved around my poor health, from autoimmune diseases to chronic pain and illness. For years, I fully embraced the role of a victim in my situation. The abuse of childhood had worn me down. So when I became a young widow in my early 20s, I nearly gave up—I attempted to take my life. Every day, I am glad that I failed. On that day in 2013, in the hospital, I met a nurse who gave me hope. She changed the trajectory of my life forever. I am a survivor, a fighter, and an advocate. Living with an autoimmune disease used to define me; I felt weak and ashamed. My long list of illnesses followed me around like a plague that I was desperate to hide. Today, I speak openly about my autoimmune disorders and actively educate others. I am proud of the struggles that have made me who I am today. Growing research shows a strong correlation between autoimmune disease and childhood trauma—I am committed to bringing more awareness to this topic. Currently, I am building a business supporting mothers healing from childhood trauma. I provide education, support, and resources on living with autoimmune diseases and mental health support. My struggles have taught me resilience, tenacity, and the value of every moment. I want to share these lessons with others who have struggled and continue to suffer so that I may inspire them to embrace their potential. It would be a privilege to use the Chronic Boss Scholarship to further my work in supporting women in overcoming autoimmune diseases and childhood trauma. Currently, I am pursuing my Master's in Psychology and Trauma to understand further how the body manifests trauma and find new ways to support women.

When I was two years old, my mother noticed I was getting up at night, turning on the faucet and guzzling water. I was cranky and losing my baby fat. My pediatrician’s office said it was a phase. Luckily my mom insisted on an appointment. My blood sugar was too high to register, and I was rushed to the hospital where my family began to learn what it meant to have Type 1 Diabetes. I am one of the lucky ones. After the initial fumble with my diagnosis, I received prompt treatment from experts at a modern hospital. Within a year, I was on an insulin pump and continuous glucose monitor. By age four, I was recognizing blood glucose numbers and what treatments were needed. By five, I was counting carbohydrates, and by six years old, I was calculating insulin dosages. In the summers I began attending Camp Holiday Trails, a camp for kids with medical needs, and learned to always challenge myself. At seven, I fell in love with the flute, and, two years later, won a competition to a music camp of my choice. I chose a two-week residential camp hundreds of miles from home and, with much persistence, convinced my parents I could manage my disease on my own. I did, and I returned to the camp for the next four summers. When I was in 7th grade coming up with ideas for a science project, I read about the #WeAreNotWaiting Diabetes DIY Movement and thought an artificial pancreas system would not only make for an awesome project, but it would improve my life. My father was far more skeptical than I, but with his help, I implemented the OpenAPS system. I won 1st place and vastly improved my ability to safely sleep through the night, but even more importantly, the experience opened my eyes to the possibilities that open-source software has in healthcare – an initiative I hope to continue to be a part of not just for diabetes. Meanwhile, around the world, others were dying or becoming permanently brain damaged from symptoms not being recognized until too late, from rationing insulin due to the high cost, or just from a lack of knowledge in properly managing the disease. On my ten-year “diaversary,” I wanted to give back to those less fortunate. I discovered the charity "Life for a Child" and planned a fundraiser that raised thousands of dollars to go towards providing vital diabetes supplies and education to children in developing countries. I created a diabetes awareness video and organized a week-long education effort at my school. I continued my efforts during the COVID-19 pandemic by designing and selling homemade continuous glucose monitor patches online and donating the proceeds to the charity. Since then I have fulfilled my dream of becoming a volunteer firefighter and EMT. I must work harder to convince others that I am up to the task, but I have persevered. Last summer, I returned to Camp Holiday Trails as a volunteer and was able to bond with and mentor young children with diabetes and other conditions. I have spent my life learning the complexities and difficulties of having a disability, including years of being frustrated at my body's inability to work properly. But I have since realized that it works exactly right to make me who I am. This summer I will return to camp once again as a full-time counselor, and I am determined to be a positive role model and to show my campers that, with the right attitude and support, a so-called 'disability' can be a superpower.

I struggled to walk up a full flight of stairs in my high school and had to rest on the landing. I was too tired to be upset about being late for class. At just 15 years old, I already felt like my body was failing me. A series of doctors had poked, prodded, and scanned me. They found nothing to diagnose, but something was clearly wrong. I couldn’t sleep, and when I did, I woke up still exhausted. I couldn’t focus and often spaced out in the middle of a conversation. Eventually, I ended up at Boston Children’s Hospital. There, I finally got the answer I was looking for—a diagnosis. After almost a year of eliminating every other possibility, the answer was chronic fatigue syndrome, now also known as myalgic encephalomyelitis. That diagnosis changed the trajectory of my life. First, I got permission to graduate from high school a year early to escape the constant stimulation of crowded hallways and fluorescent lights. When I went to college to study journalism, I tried to stack my classes to avoid early wake-up times and lived off-campus to protect my health. I fought my way through college and an internship. With my Bachelor’s degree in hand, it was time to figure out what to do with my career. That’s when my chronic illness changed my path again. With my unpredictable energy levels and intermittent illness, I knew getting up early every morning to commute to a newsroom and then work for eight hours straight was out of the question. If I was going to live with this thing, I needed to build work with my body, not against it. So I started my freelance business. Through trial and error, I learned to manage my energy and listen to my body. I freed myself from strict schedules so I could deliver quality work on deadline without making myself sick. The results were better than I could have imagined. I’ve been freelancing for 14 years and now have a thriving business with a roster of happy clients, most of whom have no idea about my chronic illness. Actually, some of them have probably figured it out by now because, in 2022, I published a novel based on my personal experience with chronic illness. I dedicated On the Bank of Oblivion to “all the kids who don’t yet have names for what's hurting them.” Writing and publishing the novel earned me guest spots on podcasts for people with autoimmune disorders and other illnesses. Inevitably, the hosts ask about how I balance my business and my health. When I started to think about that question, I realized I’d learned a lot about building and running a business. Soon after the book came out, I decided that it was time to start sharing my experience. I’m creating an online course to teach other freelancers how to build and scale successful businesses without working themselves to death. My hope is that it will help other people like me see that they can have successful careers, no matter what challenges they face. Sometimes, I wish I could go back in time and meet my tired and terrified 15-year-old self. I wish I could tell her where this struggle will lead us. Imagine if I could show her how that challenging staircase will lead to strength, resilience, and an entrepreneurial spirit. I think she’d be proud of how far we’ve come, and maybe a little surprised at how chronic illness helped make it possible.

Type 1 Diabetes Drives, Not Defines, Me With all the strength I could summon, I tried to push through, but my legs collapsed. My body smacked the court in a jarring thud; the gymnasium’s cacophony went silent. My varsity volleyball teammates stood paralyzed in motionless stares. The hours that followed were a blur. The endocrinologist’s life-altering explanation, “type 1 diabetes,” should not have shocked me. The unquenchable thirst, insatiable hunger, drastic weight loss, pounding headaches, and even an episode of urinary incontinence of the preceding weeks suddenly had relevance. The very bodily system that was supposed to protect me from disease instead turned on me. My immune system was obliterating my pancreas. With soaring blood glucose levels and diabetic ketoacidosis, the gravity of my diagnosis harshly crushed me. From my hospital bed, I spent the next week learning the vital intricacies of type 1 diabetic management. Lessons I would depend on forever. The everyday stresses of my teenage life faded; they paled in comparison to the tremendous stress I now faced, enlightening my perspective on life. However, this was only the beginning of my insight. Just three days into my weeklong hospital stay, my family received even more unbelievable news: My insurance company was refusing to cover my $53,000 hospital bill with the dumbfounding explanation that my care was medically unnecessary. This cost would render my family financially destitute. Not only was I burdened with a life-long medical challenge, but also the fear of not being able to afford the medical care I needed to survive. Although I was fortunate that the hospital eventually graciously absorbed my bill, through my experience, it became clear to me that the American healthcare system is seriously flawed and starkly inequitable. For other less fortunate individuals whose hospitals do not have the financial means to absorb their bill, they must face a life-threatening diagnosis while combating severe financial debt and go without vital care because their healthcare system does not protect them. The challenges accompanying my diagnosis have driven me to uncover the failings of the American healthcare system. My Humanities Research Honors course provided me with the avenue to research this calamity. Through my research, I interviewed various professionals and collaborated with several non-profit organizations. I completed and published my research paper and symposium presentation: How Socioeconomic Status Dictates the Health Care Patients with Type 1 Diabetes Receive in America. I want to dedicate my life to this field of study and activist work. Through two specific organizations—the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation (JDRF) and the Right Care Alliance (RCA)—, I am working to transform America’s healthcare system into one that prioritizes patients’ wellbeing, not profits, to ensure healthcare equity. Through JDRF, I help newly diagnosed children and their families learn how to manage their disease. I assure them that they can triumph over this burden and inform them of any critical tips to help them successfully manage their medical needs, allowing them to live a full and enjoyable life. Moreover, as an RCA intern, I organize for equitable, universal healthcare. One of my roles in this space is to spearhead seminars on the American healthcare system to mobilize for direct activist action. I am confident the American healthcare system can transform into an equitable system for all patients. Type 1 diabetes changed my life, but it has empowered me. Through my unrelenting medical condition, I found my life’s ambition: to ensure a working, equitable healthcare system for everyone living in America. Type 1 diabetes drives, not defines, me.

Everything I ever need remains in my grandfather's suitcase. There was never a shortage of surprises from my homeland: Trinidad and Tobago. Novelties like shells taught me how the sea shaped the land and how the land provided an opportunity to forge a unique life. My grandfather's storytelling molded me into the kindhearted and determined woman I am today. My grandfather spent most of his career working for an oil refinery. Unfortunately, early-onset Parkinson's Disease caused him to retire prematurely. Yet, he remained positive and used his free time to enjoy precious moments with his family/community; as years progressed he declined. The last time I saw him, he said he could not visit again due to the stress of traveling. I reassured him that I would visit him next time. He said, “with education and perseverance, you will accomplish all your dreams in the States.” That next visit never came. In December 2019, everything changed. I was on my way to school when I suddenly came down with a high fever. Days after, my condition worsened, and I panicked. My grandfather told me to stay strong. I collapsed and spent ten days in the hospital, the doctors believed I had cancer. Several other specialists approached my case conservatively. Many treatments did not work. I endured extensive imaging, labs, and biopsies. My quality of life worsened drastically. Finally, a new rheumatologist took my case. She correctly diagnosed me with multiple autoimmune diseases and initiated the appropriate treatment. However, this treatment suppressed my immune system, and I was advised to limit my exposure only to individuals at home. I asked “why me” but remained optimistic. I started homebound tutoring, but social isolation swiftly overcame me. My peers continued life as normal while mine came to a halt. Three months later, COVID-19 caused a widespread lockdown. My friends did not adjust well, so I comforted them. After all, I endured a three-month head start. I wanted to help my suffering classmates. Remembering my grandfather’s lessons, I did not want my illness to limit me; I used it to propel me forward. I presented a club idea to my school named “Kindness Through Crisis.” Students could virtually share their struggles and support each other. Sadly, I started losing hope in the club’s formation due to strict school policies. I consulted my grandfather. His response was to make it a reality, no matter the obstacles. I persisted, and the school finally approved my club. My grandfather was extremely proud. On October 28, 2020, my grandfather passed away after battling Parkinson’s for 18 years. Due to closed borders, my family virtually attended his funeral; I felt as if there was no closure. Then, I recalled the very last time he visited. He left behind a suitcase. It was filled with old coins and other mementos. Before putting the suitcase away, I felt something heavy resting at the bottom: a compass. I thought, “I still have Grandpa’s compass.” His words resonate in my head, “Try again. Never give up.” He believed I had the tenacity to accomplish my dreams. As COVID cases continued to rise, I used my spare time to assist the less fortunate. Many were without computers, knowledge about COVID, or did not know how to make a vaccination appointment. I started mass campaigns on social media to help people schedule appointments for themselves and their families. I was able to help over 236 people secure appointments. I aspire to pursue a career in finance with a philanthropic focus. I want to provide visionaries with their own compass, much like my grandpa did for me.

In July of last year, I went to the emergency room after my watch measured a resting heart rate of upwards of one hundred fifty beats per minute and, following seven hours at the hospital and lots of blood tests, was diagnosed with Graves Disease, a condition that affects the thyroid and kicks it into overactivity. A lot of prior health issues began to make sense, such as difficulty participating in athletic activities, insomnia, and issues with metabolism, but I also found my mobility restricted over the next few months as I waited for the medications I was prescribed to take effect. These issues became exacerbated at the start of the school year. As someone who has had health issues my whole life, I was already aware that the public school system was not accessible to disabled students, but the extent of it quickly became clear. I missed parts of class when the elevators I needed access to were in use or when I felt sick and needed to go to the nurse, I found myself emailing teachers to remind them of parts of my 504 plan they were docking points for, and one teacher even told me my condition 'wasn't bad enough to result in hospitalization' when I asked to hang back during a class mindfulness walk and wait for my active heart rate to fall below 155 beats per minute. As my thyroid has gotten more in control and I've needed fewer accommodations, things have gotten better, but this experience has opened my eyes to the importance of accessibility in all spaces, especially during the pandemic. I've always been a writer, and I've always been interested in business. I found these worlds intersecting once I began putting my work out. With the advent of the internet, the publishing industry is moving so fast that authors don't just have to be good at writing; in some cases, they must be their own accountant, cover designer, editor, and marketing executive, and this is especially true in the realm of self-pub. I found myself expanding my horizons and building an online platform dedicated to teaching others about writing in the general sense in addition to the importance of representation in fiction, and I hope to one day turn this platform into a business. Ideally, I would help other young writers find their way in the publishing world, especially young writers who find themselves underrepresented in traditional publishing. A 2019 survey by the Publishers Association found that only 6.6% of the publishing workforce identified as having a disability, and the percentage of disabled authors who get publishing deals is uncertain. Disabled voices deserve a space, and they deserve to be listened to. In an ideal world, I would start an accessible business that would enable authors from every walk of life to find publishers or be published, teach young writers about their passions, and celebrate the stories we all have to tell, and I've been working hard since middle school to build the foundations of this business.

I have had an autoimmune disease of arthritis for a very long time. With the combined struggles of autoimmune disease, learning disability, and trauma it has been very challenging. It took many years to learn skills on how to communicate what I need and how to take the time I need to rest. There were many times I would push myself to the point where I would burn out and be of no use for long periods of time. I now know how to regulate myself better. This is vital for me to be healthy and successful in life. This has also assisted me in looking for ways to help others by volunteering on a few committees regarding disabilities and employment issues. Currently, we are having an employment crisis. According to the CDC in 2018, one out of every five Americans were diagnosed with a disability, that is 25% of Americans. In 2015, it was one out of every four. In three years we have had a 5% increase in disability rates. According to the Labor bureau people with disabilities have a 2-3x higher unemployment rate. Many autoimmune diseases fall under the category of disabilities. I with a fellow member in one of these committees have worked on submitting a proposal to present research on what employers need to hire more people with disabilities. I don't want to stop there. I started researching what colleges believe in equity for people who have struggles like mine and want to see more people like me succeed. I know that I am considered a minority group that is underrepresented and not always heard. I had taken college courses multiple times where people did not understand Ableism or disability within context, meaning capability. Having an autoimmune disease means I have to put my capability in context and know how to explain that to people. I knew I wanted to find a place that would help me become an authority so I could create change in this area. I found Portland State University and applied for their Ph.D. program. I am waiting to hear back. I constantly talk about Ableism to people and what it means. I also constantly talk to people about the importance of open communication, empathy, and understanding. I recently started working on a project called The Needs Languages and have written a series of books. At this time I have published two books. The Needs Languages are a system to identify and categorize personality types. It is fast and intuitive helping you feel connected and providing a sense of belonging in all your relationships. I discovered this modality while brainstorming on a road trip and have been working on it and applying it ever since. I have been seeing amazing results. I have included links to my website and to the books I have published. I have also included links to what I have referenced. Every struggle I faced I have overcome no matter how long it takes me and in that, I have made a commitment to myself that I will be a part of the change for others. Thank you for the opportunity to write for this scholarship. https://www.cnbc.com/2020/03/02/unemployment-rate-among-people-with-disabilities-is-still-high.html https://www.cdc.gov/ncbddd/disabilityandhealth/infographic-disability-impacts-all.html https://www.cdc.gov/media/releases/2015/p0730-us-disability.html #theNeedsLanguages https://thesevencandles.com/ https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09MGFRHB9?binding=paperback&qid=1637796738&sr=8-1&ref=dbs_dp_rwt_sb_pc_tpbk

I was having occasional trouble breathing, and my heart was fluttering. Every time I stood up, I got dizzy. I was having trouble thinking during classes, and my mind was blurry. Then I was diagnosed with Immune Thrombocytopenia(ITP), an autoimmune disease causing my body to destroy my own platelets. Without platelets, my blood could not clot, and spontaneous bleeding could occur. That explained the nose bleeds, the bruises, and the loss of blood explained the anemia and brain fog. I just remember asking why? Why has my body failed me? After I was diagnosed, I tried different medications, and spent countless hours with doctors, in hospitals, and even saw specialists at the Mayo clinic, but nothing seemed to help. I would drag myself to school every day but didn’t even feel like I was there because I was so tired. There were days where I could not get out of bed, those days I would have nose bleeds for 3-4 hours and feel completely drained. I decided that ITP may be a part of my life, but ITP was not going to control my life. As I tried different treatments, I started taking action on what I could control. I learned to manage my stress, manage my sleep, and improve my diet. We eventually found a medication that has treated my ITP effectively, and together with my health self-management, my body feels great. My anemia equally subsided, so my brain fog cleared, and I can think clearly. I have renewed energy. I now have more control over my life. Not only did I gain more platelets, but through this process I gained more confidence. I am a unique person. I am part of .003% of the population that have this autoimmune disease. ITP has led me to a fascination with healthcare as I spend time researching my blood disorder. I’ve become involved in the Platelet Disorder Association (PDSA) and participated in several webinars with younger children, so they can talk to an older child and know everything is going to be OK! This year I was featured in the opening video to PDSA’s annual conference with over 670 participants from 20 countries. I have always had an interest in the medical field, and now I have personal experience. Through my experiences with my autoimmune disease, I’ve formed my ambition to become a nurse. Being in and out of the hospital has shown me the atmosphere that I want to work in. Seeing nurses help and care for people and making a difference in the world, I’ve learned what I want to do. With this vision of becoming a nurse, and a strengthened resolve that I can conquer anything, my academics gained more purpose. I have a 4.1 GPA, am a member of National Honor Society (NHS) and will be earning the Distinguished Level of Achievement with a STEM endorsement in high school. One Of my favorite courses this year is Anatomy and Physiology. I have been admitted to a pre-nursing program and anticipate participating in the pre-nursing Living Learning Community on campus. I know that my physical immune system was compromised, but my emotional immune system is stronger than ever. I have confidence in who I am, what I can do and where I am going. Living with my autoimmune disease became a strength because it showed me that I could conquer anything. Dealing with the ups and downs of ITP has shown me how strong I really am. I am passionately pursuing a career in nursing. I know that whatever goals I set in life, nothing can stop me.

Psoriasis has transformed my world into an outlet of newfound gratitude. Since I was diagnosed with eczema as a newborn and then Psoriasis at 12, I remember constantly feeling discouraged because my skin would flare up no matter what I did. It felt like I was experiencing a never-ending cycle of hatred from the world; almost no one would want to spend time with me because they were afraid they’d be infected. As I matured, however, I made the conscious decision that I would not live in misery just because my skin isn’t perfect. I’ve learned how society is quick to form unjust opinions of others based on surface-level assets. Beauty is not exclusively external; the constant reinforcement of my true friends and family have taught me that. Although I still can’t wear the clothes I want or go outside in particular weather, I will not let that hinder my gratitude. I have become more aware of how fortunate I am to participate in all of my school activities. I am alive, I can breathe, I am loved, I can walk and talk, and I will never take any of that for granted. Instead of thinking, "why me?" I think, "why not me." Having Psoriasis has been a blessing in disguise. I want to exemplify to people coping with an illness, whether physical or mental, that it is possible to prevail despite the magnitude of their circumstances. I know how horrible it feels to cope with an illness alone, to feel like no one in the world understands you. My goal is to pursue a career as a dermatologist so that I can empower others with dignity and strength, just as I have been. Psoriasis has transformed me into a mentally stronger person, and I have become more aware of the people around me. I have learned that everyone has a beautiful story to tell about themselves and their experiences, yet we don't allow them the chance to express themselves due to our own pride and judgment. Everyone has internal and external battles that we cannot see in their entirety. The ability to show empathy to others in today's society is so important, especially as mental health is becoming stigmatized more than ever. For this very reason, I started the Mental Health Awareness Club at my school. After experiencing the crushing weight of prejudice, I will never again form an opinion about someone without genuinely getting to know their story first because everyone is fighting hidden battles. In our club, we aspire to create a safe space for students from all walks of life to talk about their experiences with their mental health. Our goal is to foster togetherness and collaboration within our student body by creating an uplifting community without judgment or invalidation. Making ourselves open to forming new relationships with unlikely people and starting new conversations is key to making the school into a place where many diverse ideas are exchanged and accepted. By spreading love and kindness to everyone we encounter, we plant a seed within them that will brighten their day and encourage them to show kindness to their peers as well. Using the strength that I have found within myself due to Psoriasis, I want to empower others by letting them know it is okay to struggle. Healing on all levels is possible regardless of harsh circumstances. I always strive to be a friend to those who may struggle to find friends and to be a support system to anyone who doesn't have someone they can confide in.

Almost paralyzed, I watched the surgical light swift slowly above my head, becoming slower with each sway. My hands were placed above my head. My legs were postured in a diamond position, and I tried my hardest to keep cool, as the Seton was inserted into my fistula tracts. With one swift movement from a sharp surgical blade, pressure was released from my body. In the minutes that I lied still on the surgical bed, I reflected upon the endless hours of sleep, night pacing, and emotional frustration my lupus had brought upon my teenage life and my future. Lupus changed my daily routine, and I was forced to change as well. What started as a minor inflammatory disease (Hidradenitis Suppurativa) ended up having a pivotal, yet emotional influence on my life. Pacing. Each night, I was given a limited amount of hours during which I was comfortable sleeping. I spent the majority of my nights circling through the dark hallways of my kitchen and living room with my arms around my head to relieve the pain. Although the 4-6 hours of pacing led to uneasy mornings, those few hours offered me time to think. Brain-stimulated and heart racing, I was able to allow myself relief from the millions of ideas that ran through my mind each day. Better ways to market my small business. How to drive traffic to my website. I was able to turn nights of misery into productive days. Emotion. Sleep deprivation, accompanied by chronic pain, caused me to deal with emotional frustration. I had trouble accepting help from those around me because I did not want to place a burden on them. At this time, I was having trouble with my self esteem, and constantly asking the rhetorical questions of “why me?”. For months, I mentally manipulated myself to think that I wasn’t beautiful, and that the scaring left behind would change the way I looked at myself. Even though to an extent, I truly believed this was true, I made the outcomes all but better keeping my emotions bottled inside, instead of telling someone how I was feeling. I learned that a person’s or one’s mental state is just as important as one’s physical abilities. Much like Noam Shpancer said, “Mental health is not a destination, but a process. It’s about how you drive, not where you’re going.” Sleep. The essential factor for a productive morning. Before the tragedy that altered my life, I didn’t realize how important sleep was for my mental and physical health. My mother loved interior design and wanted to make some changes in the house. However, financially, we could not afford to complete the remodeling all at once. I explained to her that she was “moving too fast” and that “she needed to take it day by day.” What I soon realized is that I needed to take my advice. I learned that nothing is going to happen overnight. Allowing myself to organize and complete tasks one at a time allowed me to relieve my stress, and my need for a Starbucks coffee. Although my auto immune diseases tested countless emotional and physical limitations, I would not change the past if I could. Beyond the physical and emotional pain I suffered for months, I was able to understand true leadership. Perseverance….Growth….Patience…. were all qualities that I’ve gained from this experience. With my efforts to keep pushing through this life obstacle, I became an aspiration to my friends and my future. And to this day, I live by the mission statement “Come what may and love it.”

During the end of my sophomore year, I started experiencing abdominal pain, diarrhea, and bloody stools regularly. The frequent loss of blood depleted iron and vitamin levels in my body.I became anemic, extremely fatigued, and lost 28 pounds of weight. After over a year of anguish, I was finally diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitis, a chronic inflammatory bowel disease. A lot of my time was spent in the bathroom or going to the hospital,an hour away from our home,for monthly infusions or appointments. Adjusting to life with an inflammatory bowel disease was an arduous process that took a toll on me initially. I was constantly stressed and overwhelmed trying to learn about the chronic illness that I had, treatment options, and side effects of treatment. I spent hours every day researching on the internet, looking for a possible cure and analyzing the largely varying experiences of people with the condition. There were no definitive answers to my endless inquiries: I didn’t know how long it would be until remission, what medication would work for me, let alone how my body would react. This only added to my anxiety as I often found myself anxious and restless, I soon came to realize that in my case the only uncertainty was certain. Unable to find the reassurance I needed from people and the internet, I turned towards my culture. Practices like yoga, chanting mantras, and meditation brought my focus back to what was important and showed me the insignificance of my fears. They ushered me towards a healthier lifestyle that gave me the strength to overcome the daily fatigue. In the long run, I developed a rigorous work ethic, maintained my grades, and continued participating in my daily activities. Adversity has made me more conscientious and shaped me as a leader. For me every moment counts and I feel a sense of purpose through helping others, these beliefs only grew firmer during my flare-up and it urged me to act. I saw the learning gap widening and students falling behind in school due to the exacerbation of educational inequity that came with the pandemic. Well-known tutoring organizations were profiting from this situation by increasing their virtual class sizes and making the cost of one on one tutoring quite expensive. Consequently, I established One Step At A Time (OSAT), a free 1-on-1 virtual tutoring organization that has impacted over 500 students. I grew the organization from scratch in my community through diligent marketing, planning, management, and recruitment so that everyone could have access to extra help if they needed it regardless of their background. As the CEO & founder of OSAT,President & founder of DV Girl Up, a Vice President of the Girl Up Northern California Coalition, an Entrepreneurship Director for Shooting Stars, the Vice President of DV Sankara Eye Foundation, and a Youth Activation Committee member for the Special Olympics of Northern California: I’ve been working towards the causes I’m passionate about while encouraging hundreds of high schoolers to create change. Through advocating for equity and inclusion, I have been able to understand my real self better. Just knowing that I was making a difference gave me a sense of fulfillment that made me smile on the hardest days and helped push past the physical pain.These two years have been tough, but they have prepared me for tovercoming any challenge in the future. I have learned to always give my best, remain optimistic, and never compromise with my ambitions. The nickname of “trooper” given to me teachers has really grown on me because of my ability to bounce back every time I fall.