Mohamed Magdi Taha Memorial Scholarship

To stand up for what is right is to be honest with yourself about your complicity. But it also means acknowledging the value that you hold as a human in delivering courage in places where it is scarce. I spent my childhood sheltered from the politics that surrounded my upbringing, but its effects still seeped into my little microcosm of a world. At five years old, I would curiously look at the young children who lined up the streets of Khartoum and wonder where they went to school, when they returned home. At seven, I learned they didn’t have homes and felt stricken. By eleven, I would make sandwiches and hand them out at the foot of my door. Watching my parents create rapport with individuals who needed assistance within our community fueled me to reflect on the position of privilege I had been blessed with, and so I tried to do the same. Being your friendly neighborhood do-gooder came easy for me, but using my voice didn’t come so easily. I didn’t participate in civil events and I never voiced my political opinion. I chose to isolate myself from politics and cultural disputes because all I understood was a system that perpetuated hate. I found no hope in fixing a broken system; my hope lay in fixing a broken community, much like William Du Bois. But just like Du Bois I was, as a result, not striving for more for my people. At fourteen, the revolution started and I was finally put in the position to acknowledge the social responsibility I had been avoiding. The Sudanese Revolution of 2019 was a cultural healing for me. Within myself, I was able to reconcile my history and my country’s history. We weren’t condemned to helplessness even if colonization after regime after another made it seem so. We always had a national dream. We were now one. We were joyous creatives from the desert, determined pursuers of justice, and gentle-toned workers. We used those mixed heritages to fight through resistance art, organizing protests, and education. I was finally honest with myself. I chose to acknowledge the value my voice and actions held in my life. Those moments, as I stood under a billboard painted with words of resistance, and felt the collective sadness of a nation, created a cascade of unforgettable emotions that are continuously shaping my advocacy today. Mohamed was one of those life events. Advocacy didn't come easily to me, but even in school, Mohamed had already lived a life of advocacy. Not once have I thought of social advocacy and not been inspired by his generous and courageous spirit. May Allah grant him Jannah. And so those cascades led to others: I spent my junior year of High school participating in my school’s Flood Relief Initiative, collecting donations for flooded regions, and became the President in my senior year. I was the Head of Media for my school’s Ramadan Baskets Initiative and later a mentor for the following cohort. During my gap year, I was a K-5 Classroom Assistant at a refugee school and was inspired to pursue a career in Educational Neuroscience. I am now nineteen and no longer hopeless in the face of a system. I understand the value of both community and system, the extent of loss, and also what remains to be seen. My voice has a responsibility and I plan to continue using it to provide research that can support children in regions of educational disparity, especially amongst the lost voices of refugees and war-torn immigrants of Sudan.

Advocacy has always been at the heart of my journey, shaping not only who I am but also the communities I aim to serve. As the ASUCI Biological Sciences Senator, I’ve had the honor of being a bridge between the students in the School of Biological Sciences and our administration. Through regular conversations with peers, I’ve gathered their concerns—ranging from the need for greater research opportunities to improving support for mental health—and relayed them directly to the Dean of Biological Sciences. By fostering these dialogues, I’ve helped implement changes that enhance academic resources and create a more inclusive learning environment. Being an “upstander” in this capacity has shown me the power of listening and translating voices into action. My advocacy extends beyond policymaking and into the classroom. As a Certified Math Learning Assistant, I’ve worked with students who face disadvantages, such as coming from underrepresented communities or lacking strong mathematical foundations. Math is often seen as a gatekeeper subject, and I am passionate about breaking down barriers that hinder students’ success. I’ve mentored students through their challenges, tailoring my teaching methods to empower them to overcome self-doubt and thrive academically. Witnessing their growth has reaffirmed my belief in the transformative impact of compassion and individualized support. In addition to advocating for others, I am deeply committed to advancing neuroscience through research. Currently, I am working in a neurocritical lab in the School of Medicine, where I’m part of a team focused on optimizing stroke recovery. Our work seeks to bridge the gap between clinical practice and innovative therapies, offering hope to patients and families affected by strokes and coma. This research aligns with my long-term vision of making a meaningful impact in healthcare and has solidified my passion for addressing neurological disorders—conditions that hit close to home, as my grandfather suffered from Alzheimer's disease for many years as well as my grandmother who recently suffered a debilitating stroke. However, my aspirations extend far beyond my immediate environment. My ultimate goal is to return to my home country, Sudan, and contribute to transforming its healthcare system. Sudan faces significant disparities in healthcare access and quality, and I am driven to address these inequities. As a UC Global Health Ambassador, I am committed to addressing health disparities on a global scale. In this role, I have engaged with initiatives that emphasize the interconnectedness of health, equity, and sustainability. This work has strengthened my resolve to advocate for systemic changes that improve access to quality healthcare, both locally and globally. By applying the leadership skills I’ve developed as a senator, the teaching expertise I’ve gained as a learning assistant, and the research knowledge I’ve cultivated in the lab, I aim to improve health outcomes for underserved communities. Being an “upstander” to me means recognizing the struggles of others, using my voice to advocate for change, and empowering those who need it most. Whether I am championing student concerns, guiding those struggling with math, or seeking breakthroughs in stroke recovery, my focus is on building stronger, more supportive communities. Like Mohamed Magdi Taha, I believe in the transformative power of both small, compassionate acts and bold, systemic changes. This scholarship would enable me to continue my journey of advocacy, research, and global impact. It would support my mission to make healthcare more accessible, inspire future generations of students, and ultimately contribute to a world where no one is left unheard or unhelped. Together, these efforts reflect my commitment to standing up for others and creating a legacy of meaningful change.

Mohamed Magdi Taha’s dedication to advocating for what is right, his powerful use of voice, and his understanding of the impact of both small and large acts of kindness inspire me deeply. As a first-generation American with roots in Ghana and St. Vincent, and through my various roles at the University of Texas and beyond, I strive to embody the spirit of an "up-stander." My commitment to advocacy, education, and healthcare reflects my belief in the transformative power of standing up for change and building a stronger community. As the elected representative for the College of Natural Sciences at the University of Texas at Austin, I play an active role in advocating for equitable education. In response to Senate Bill 17, which removed diversity efforts from schools, I am involved in the Academic Affairs Committee. This bill posed a threat to inclusive educational environments, and my work focuses on promoting initiatives that support diversity and ensure all students have equal opportunities. By addressing these challenges and fighting for policies that uphold fairness, I aim to protect the rights of students and advocate for a more inclusive academic community. My commitment to making a difference also extends globally. I organize donation drives to provide school supplies to children in Ghana. This effort supports educational initiatives in West Africa, where resources are often scarce. Mobilizing support and raising awareness for these drives highlights my belief in the power of seemingly small acts, such as donating supplies, to make a significant impact on communities far from my own. These initiatives help improve educational access and support the development of future leaders. Public speaking is another avenue through which I advocate for change. Delivering the keynote speech for the City of Leander’s Martin Luther King Day celebration allowed me to address important issues of social justice and inspire others to take action. Speaking publicly about topics such as equity and community support not only amplifies these messages but also encourages others to contribute to positive change. By using my voice in this way, I hope to motivate individuals to become active participants in building a more just and compassionate society. As a public health major and pre-medicine student, I am dedicated to improving community health. My goal is to establish free clinics in disenfranchised communities to provide essential medical services to those who might otherwise lack access. This aspiration aligns with my commitment to addressing health disparities and promoting a more equitable healthcare system. My involvement in crisis counseling and volunteering at Ascension Seton Hospital further demonstrates my dedication to supporting those in need and fostering community well-being. Through these roles, I gain valuable insights into the importance of compassionate care and advocacy in healthcare. Currently, I volunteer as a crisis counselor for the Crisis Text Line and at Ascension Seton Hospital. As a crisis counselor, I provide immediate support to individuals in emotional distress, offering guidance and a listening ear during critical moments. This role underscores the significance of empathy and responsiveness in addressing urgent needs. Similarly, my volunteer work at the hospital allows me to contribute to patient care and support healthcare professionals, reinforcing my commitment to community service. My experiences have shown me the power of combining advocacy with meaningful action. Whether through educational reform, global outreach, public speaking, or healthcare initiatives, I am dedicated to making a positive impact. By remaining committed to these efforts, I hope to honor the legacy of individuals like Mohamed Magdi Taha and contribute to creating a more inclusive, compassionate world..

I was in Sudan for the first time since I started school in the US when Mohammed passed away, may Allah bless his soul. I would like to start by extending my deepest condolences to his family and expressing my grief; his loss had a ripple effect around Sudan, and though I did not know him personally, I still felt the effect his loss had among common friends, family, and somehow also on a personal level. His character and spirit were admirable and he will not be forgotten. My name is Rayann Hisham Ali. I am a first-generation Sudanese-American junior at the University of St. Thomas pursuing a major in mechanical engineering and a minor in mathematics. I aim to work in the renewable energy industry specializing in solar and wind power transmission. As a Muslim, black, African, woman in STEM, I think my sense of being an up-stander manifests in each aspect of my identity, especially as a Sudanese woman. Being an up-stander is a trait I developed at an early age; one I credit to my Sudanese and my Muslim identity. I was taught that one must stand up for what is right at all times. As a Sudanese resident in 2019, I considered myself a revolutionary. Activism was not a choice at that time, we were simply doing our duty to our country in the hope of a better, more ethical, civilian-led Sudan. Now, since the war broke out, I am inspired by the people I have seen stay in Sudan to enlist and fight: people from my own family and friends circle. The war was a depressing outcome, but it is not the end: I continue to stand up for Sudan using my voice and social media platforms, contacting senators, sharing fundraisers, and simply by not losing hope. When assessed on a communal level, these seemingly small acts are highly probable to cause positive change. I stand up for Sudan by doing everything in my power, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant. In 2020, I left my family in Sudan and moved to Minnesota to pursue my education. I left after my freshman year at the University of Khartoum because Sudan was becoming so politically unstable (and unsafe) that school had shut down indefinitely. In a way, I wanted to start my career so I can help my family and in turn my country. In Minnesota, I enrolled in community college while I figured out financials and worked on transferring my international credits to the University of St. Thomas, where I finally started this spring. I thought I had finally reached a level of stability, but then came the war and displacement of my family and worrying for every person I have ever known. In terms of life goals, being Sudanese has given me quite a few recently My top priority has now become helping my family migrate to the US. And because I have become hyper-aware of the unique challenges black and African students face, I plan to launch a fund dedicated to scholarships, mentorship, and counseling for black youth, prioritizing Sudanese youth. I also plan to write a book one day, sharing my experiences, and shedding light on how to survive hard things through faith, perseverance, and healing by fostering community. Half of the profits from this book will go towards a bi-annual emergency scholarship fund for students in crisis since I know how hard it is. Winning this scholarship would help me pay for housing and book fees. Thank you for considering me.

I did not know Mohamed personally, but we had some mutual friends who knew and loved him dearly. It was not until his passing that I realized just how much of an activist Mohamed was in terms of his passion for doing what is right and his ability to see good in this world, most specifically, his advocacy for our home country, Sudan. I learned this mostly from social media where his closest friends would post many pictures and videos of Mohamed taking action for his beliefs as well as his poetry that call for peace and love, portraying him as the hero he truly was. This was when I felt motivated and inspired to support and fight for the justice and democracy that Sudan deserves instead of looking at my home country from a critical, disappointed and hopeless eye that I once strongly had. Mohamed reminded me that I needed to do more for my country. Ever since I moved to the US last year to finish my studies, I have been trying my best to raise awareness about Sudan, not only mentioning the negatives that are constantly shown in the media but educating people here about our beautiful culture and traditions, our core values and intellect and our generosity and kindness as Sudanese individuals. I often felt sad and frustrated when people would not know where or what Sudan even is, especially with the most recent ongoing war between the SAF and the RSF that continues to affect millions of Sudanese people right now. However, I learned to change that negative energy into something that was useful, both for Sudan and the people who do not know much about it. As such, my fellow Sudanese friends and I established the Sudanese American Wildcat Association (acronym “SAWA” meaning “together” in Arabic: سوا) at our college. The purpose of the association is to unite the Sudanese students on campus and together, or “sawa,” we hosted multiple events where we would share with the other students our culture, language and food while raising awareness about the current situation in our home country. One of our noteworthy actions was when a group of us traveled to Phoenix, Arizona, a city that is two hours away from us to participate in a protest under the name “Stop The War” to stand up for the innocent Sudanese civilians whose basic human rights have been violated due to the clash between the two armed parties in April 2023. The protest received local coverage with a few curious people who drove by honking in support or stopping and asking us our purpose. This was when we realized we were doing the right thing for our country and its people. It took me a while to realize that supporting and fighting for your homeland is a duty that all of us need to practice in our everyday life, yet I am glad that I had come to that resolution one way or another, and it is mostly thanks to individuals like Mohamed and the many martyrs before and after him. Although we have lost such a powerful soul to a tragedy that Mohamed was continuously fighting to prevent, his efforts, achievements and compassion will never be forgotten by our younger Sudanese generation – I know I personally have not.