Star Farm Scholarship for LGBTQ+ Students

Before I ever said the words out loud, I prayed they’d still love me. I am a queer Black woman raised in a predominantly Black and Hispanic city and a devout Christian household—an identity that can feel isolating in itself. Black Christian families aren’t exactly known for embracing homosexuality, yet I held onto hope. I wanted to believe that love would stretch far enough to make room for me. Conversations with family and peers could be warm, sometimes too warm—cozy until they turned. One moment they’d compliment my outfit, and the next they’d make a joke about the LGBTQ+ community, unaware of the sting it carried. They’d misgender a trans student in passing, laughing like it meant nothing. Or I’d sit in church, where a preacher’s narrowed eyes found mine as he condemned people like me. Suddenly, I wasn’t a daughter, a friend, or a classmate. I wasn’t human. I became a sinner. Attention-seeking. Broken. This was my initiation into the LGBTQ+ community—not through a warm embrace, but through exile. I realized that people like me were seen as diseased, needing to be cured by shame and prayer. The community I thought I could lean on expected me to bear that weight alone. Art saved me. Painting became the language I turned to when words were too heavy. It gave me a place to breathe, to build figures and faces I understood—ones that reflected what I couldn’t yet say aloud. I made it my mission to represent queer people in my work, especially Black queer individuals whose stories are so often overlooked. In high school, I joined the art club and found others who understood the weight of difference. The queer art world became a refuge—one that offered me safety, reflection, kindness, and confidence. So I began painting myself. Over and over. Different angles, different outfits, always calm—always at peace. I needed to see myself whole. Through that, I developed a new painting style—one still grounded in realism, but defined by stark contrasts between light and dark, with a fiery, almost incandescent light source cutting through cooler atmospheres. When I posted one of those portraits online, my former art instructor commented, “I love seeing you see you.” That moment made my artistic purpose undeniable for me. I needed to strip away the people-pleasing, the silence, the carefulness—and meet myself. I am someone who is passionate and determined to make others feel loved and safe. My work will always reflect that. Now, as a Visual Art major at Boston University, I’m learning new ways to amplify that mission. I want my art to make viewers pause, to see the human in the queer individual, to feel something real. I want to be a part of the artistic lineage that changes how we’re seen. Receiving this scholarship would mean I can sustainably work toward this lifelong goal of queer representation in artwork and focus on my studies. As someone from a working-class family and a first-generation college student, the cost of tuition, supplies, and living expenses in Boston presents a real barrier. This scholarship would directly support my ability to focus on both my creative and academic growth without being burdened by constant financial strain. It would mean a great deal to have some ease in the financial aspect of attending a higher education to give back to my community. I see myself not just as someone in the LGBTQ+ community, but someone who creates for it—someone who gives back through representation, visibility, and care. This support would be a step toward making that vision sustainable.

I clutched a library book copy of Parrotfish at 15 so tightly the cover creased over—afraid to smile too widely with the awareness that the main character was a trans man, someone might question why. That fleeting instant of recognition ignited a lifetime of questions about justice: Why must anyone be afraid to see themselves reflected in books? Why do the systems designed to protect us so often fail LGBTQ+ people? And now, as a student of criminology navigating my own path with gender and sexuality, I've found my answer—by working in a career where I can investigate crimes and re-write the script for how queer lives are valued. The statistics haunt me - 58% of LGBTQ+ assault survivors never report their attacks, often due to fear of police bias. In my criminal law courses, I've analyzed case after case where officers misgendered victims or dismissed same-sex domestic violence as "drama." These aren't just academic exercises. When I read about a trans woman's murder investigation being botched because detectives focused on her deadname rather than leads, I see my younger self in that library chair - invisible, misunderstood, and vulnerable. This personal connection drives my academic focus on victim advocacy and forensic psychology. I'm currently researching how trauma-informed interviewing techniques could improve outcomes for LGBTQ+ crime victims, working under Dr. Elena Martinez, whose groundbreaking work on hate crime documentation has changed NYPD protocols. Next semester, I'll intern with the NYC Anti-Violence Project, helping track bias incidents that often fall through legal cracks. My goal is to bridge the gap between queer communities and law enforcement - not just through better policies, but through human connection. I have volunteered with the youth on many occasions, and when many express to me their frustrations that they "don't feel like themselves," I tell them that it's normal to feel that way. What matters is how they express themselves. In the end, it's not just about LGBTQ+ recognition, but to allow the youth to be able to feel free without the stigma that acting in a certain way makes them "gay." Financial barriers threaten this crucial work. Between tuition, essential certifications in crisis intervention, and gender-affirming healthcare not covered by insurance, I'm constantly forced to choose which parts of my future to delay. This scholarship would allow me to attend the National LGBTQ Task Force's Creating Change conference, purchase forensic software for my research, and finally begin testosterone therapy - all of which would make me better equipped to serve my community. My vision is a justice system where no queer person fears reporting crimes, where officers understand that respecting pronouns isn't political correctness - it's basic human dignity. With this support, I can become the kind of investigator who spots the patterns in hate crimes others miss, who ensures cold cases get reopened with proper pronouns, and who shows the next generation that our identities make us invaluable problem-solvers, not problems to be solved.

As a member of the LGBTQ+ community and someone who continually advocates for both myself and others, I am no stranger to the challenges that come with embracing this aspect of my identity. I identify as a transgender man, and in today’s political climate, people like me have every reason to feel uncertain about the future, especially in accessing gender-affirming care and being treated with respect and dignity. These fears are not abstract; they are personal and pressing. Yet, despite moments of hopelessness, I’ve come to understand that change is only possible through action, and I am committed to being part of that change. Currently, I am entering my final year at SUNY Polytechnic Institute as part of the Upstate Accelerated Scholars program. Through this program, I have a conditional acceptance to SUNY Upstate Medical University’s class of 2027. This opportunity brings me closer to my goal of becoming a physician who specializes in reconstructive surgery, with a focus on gender-affirming procedures. My personal experiences navigating the healthcare system as a trans person have shown me how deeply flawed and inaccessible it can be, especially in Western New York, where there are few providers equipped or willing to deliver affirming care. I’ve become intimately familiar with the challenges transgender individuals face: long waitlists, insurance denials, misinformation, and a lack of accessible resources Because of this, I recently partnered with the Jacobs School of Medicine’s “OUTpatient” Student Working Group to create a community resource guide for accessing gender-affirming care in Western New York. This guide offers step-by-step instructions to help transgender and gender-nonconforming individuals understand how to begin the medical transition process. It also lists providers in the area, their specialties, and what kind of care they offer. While the number of affirming providers is small, compiling this information into one accessible and reliable source makes a significant difference for those seeking care in an often isolating and opaque system. My work in this area has just begun. As I move forward in my medical education, I am committed to continuing my advocacy and becoming the kind of provider I once struggled to find—one who listens, understands, and genuinely supports their LGBTQ+ patients. I hope to improve not only individual patient outcomes, but also the larger systems of access and education around trans healthcare. Receiving this scholarship would be deeply meaningful. Although I am fortunate to have a path forward into medical school, the costs associated with undergraduate and medical education remain significant. A scholarship would ease some of the financial burden, allowing me to continue dedicating time and energy toward advocacy and service within my community —both now and as a future physician.

From a young age, I felt wrong in my body, struggling with the expectations of living as a girl. Although I begrudgingly conformed to standards for most of my childhood, it took me until 2018 to start questioning my gender expression and identity. For a year I felt lost and confused in my body, until I couldn’t take it any more. I came out weeks before I turned twelve, requesting to be called Lee and to be recognized as the boy I was. The fear that had built up in me left me ultimately shocked when my family accepted me with open arms. My medical transition began shortly after I came out. I started puberty blockers in May 2020, followed by testosterone injections in July 2023. Concurrently, my family and I began researching top surgery, connecting with a doctor at Albany Med. After my first consultation, my family and I were optimistic about scheduling the surgery for mid-February, assuming the insurance would approve it. Initially, CDPHP declined my surgery, claiming that I hadn't been taking testosterone long enough to qualify for top surgery. However, I knew my rights and asked my mother to fight for me. We filled out dozens of appeals, fighting for my right to health care. The surgery date was pushed back many times, eventually landing in April. My surgeon told us that we would need to reschedule for summer if my insurance hadn't decided by the first week of April. I lost hope, fearing I wouldn't be able to get the weight off my chest that had been paining me for years. We weren't told until a week before my surgery that I would be able to have it done. As soon as I was told the news, I was overjoyed. I celebrated, cheered, and told everyone I knew. The surgery eventually passed, leaving me comfortable in my skin. It gave me freedom to explore the queer community, falling in love with drag. I began working behind the scenes with local drag queens at cafe brunches, learning the art from them. They taught me how to be unapologetically queer. I was given opportunities to perform, which I wouldn't accept until February of 2025, marking my drag debut. As soon the music began, all of my fears melted away. I knew who I was meant to be. My debut led me to organize a charity dinner show at a teahouse in Troy, New York, booking three trans queens to perform. The weeks flew by, with the event surpassing my expectations. As I began hosting the show in front of a sold-out room, I realized this was all because of my efforts. Everyone who came here came for fun, and to raise money for charity. The show ended up as a complete success, raising over $300 for Trans Lifeline. Backstage I was surrounded by the same support that I craved. I knew where I belonged. I know that I get to write my own future, and the first step of that is attending the Fashion Institute of Technology. With their top-class education and my drag styles, I know that I can use my fashion and art for the good of the LGBTQ+ community. Nothing can stop my goals, not even a price tag on my education. I will stop at nothing to get where I need to be to support my community. A scholarship of any size gets me closer to my dream and can help me give support back to the community that has stood behind me for years.

When I first joined the GSA at Scituate High School, I was searching for a sense of belonging. During my freshman year I had just transferred from a different school across the globe in Hawai'i, and the transition was overwhelming. However, the GSA quickly became a space where I felt safe, supported, and empowered. By sophomore year, I became president, determined to make our group a visible and active force for LGBTQ+ students. One of my proudest moments was organizing a tribute to our friend Max at our annual open mic event, ensuring that his legacy and the importance of LGBTQ+ mental health were honored. Through this role, I’ve worked to create safe spaces, educate others, and advocate for greater inclusivity within our school community. Beyond the GSA, I serve as the student liaison for South Shore Pride, working to expand resources and events for the LGBTQ+ community in our region. This role has allowed me to collaborate with local leaders and organizations to create year-round events that celebrate and support LGBTQ+ individuals. I’ve also been involved with the Scituate Freedom Team, advocating for inclusivity and fostering conversations about equality. These experiences have shaped my understanding of activism and reinforced my belief that real change happens when communities come together. My commitment to advocacy isn’t just about leadership; it’s about making sure no one feels alone in their identity. As someone who has faced challenges in finding my own place, I know how important it is to have support systems. I want to ensure that others, especially young people, have the resources and encouragement they need to embrace who they are. My passion for advocacy aligns with my career goal: to work in Early Childhood Education and Child Psychology. I have always loved working with children and have dedicated years to babysitting, volunteering at preschools, and mentoring younger students. I want to create safe, affirming environments where all children, regardless of background, feel valued and understood. Representation and inclusion start at a young age, and I hope to be an educator who fosters confidence, acceptance, and love in every child I work with. Receiving this scholarship would ease the financial burden of pursuing higher education and allow me to continue my mission of fostering inclusivity, one child at a time. I am committed to making a difference in my community and beyond, ensuring that LGBTQ+ youth always have the support and opportunities they deserve.

I grew up in a world where silence felt safer than truth. As a queer undocumented student, every part of my identity came with risk of judgment, rejection, or worse, deportation. But over time, I learned that silence doesn’t protect you. Visibility does. And now, as someone deeply engaged in both the LGBTQ+ and immigrant communities, I’ve turned those risks into purpose. My experience in the LGBTQ+ community has never been one of distance. I’ve lived it I navigated its challenges, leaned on its support systems, and slowly grown into someone who can offer the same to others. In high school, I co-founded an informal peer circle for queer students of color, many of whom—like me—were navigating intersectional challenges of race, immigration status, and sexuality. It was in that group that I first saw the power of community-building. We were just kids, but we became lifelines to each other in the absence of institutional support. Since then, giving back to this community hasn’t been a dream; it’s been a responsibility. I’m now studying political science because I’ve seen first-hand how laws can erase people—or protect them. My experiences as both undocumented and queer have fueled a deep desire to not only understand the system, but eventually become part of it. My dream is to become a civil rights or immigration attorney, fighting for marginalized voices that are too often silenced. Law is not just a career path for me uit’s a form of activism, a way to turn pain into policy. Getting accepted into UMass Boston was a turning point for me. It was the moment I realized that despite the systemic barriers, my goals are still valid. But the reality is, higher education as an undocumented student is incredibly difficult to finance. While I’ve qualified for in-state tuition and some state aid, crucial costs like housing and food are still left uncovered. My family and I work hard, but we live check to check—and every dollar toward college is a sacrifice. That’s why this scholarship would mean more than just financial support—it would mean stability, security, and a little less stress in a world that already asks us to carry so much. It would give me the ability to focus on my education, to stay on track for law school, and to continue uplifting the LGBTQ+ and immigrant communities I care so deeply about. More than anything, it would be an investment in someone who doesn’t just dream of giving back—but is already doing it, and ready to do more.

My experience within the LGBTQ+ has had highs and lows over the years. I'm a Black Transman originally from Virginia. I've unfortunately experienced racism online and in person from other members of the LGBTQ+ community. And as political tensions has risen, I've also began to experience transphobia from within the community. Even from other transgender people. Living within the intersectional of two marginalized identities has always been difficult for me. Being Black is not simply a racial marker, but has a culture of it's own. Subsequently, experiences of sexuality and gender are effected by our culture and racialized by those outside of it. Black people have created flourishing LGBTQ+ communities across the country. Like many others, I moved to NYC to connect with other Black members of my community. I've finally began to experience the form of community that had been lacking in my life. While growing up in Virginia, I was a student advocate and later policy researcher that assisted in having bills passed in the VA legislature to protect Transgender students and people within the state. I see myself as someone who has given to my community but also as someone with much more to give. Connecting with people in New York has only fueled by desire to create a community that feels like home for everyone. I am returning to university and attending The New School. I currently study political science, once my transfer is completed I will working on a self-designed liberal arts major. Since 2019, I've worked as an academic research assistant and I want to complete my studies to advance in my career. I have a vested interest in utilizing data analysis and digital storytelling within the humanities. While the humanities are considered 'soft science', as technology is integrated into everyday life the average person is creating 'data'. These trackable bits of information allows us to track and showcase information that previously would've been qualitative. For example, there is historical evidence of LGBTQ+ facing housing discrimination but it was incredibly difficult to do statistical analysis on a marginalized group. Over the years, as metrics for tracking housing inequality has expanded, we're able to look at the community on a national scale. Information like this is extremely important because it's used to support pushes for legislation, it's used to determine grant funding for programs, but also it supports the anecdotal evidence given by members of the community over the years. Receiving a scholarship is necessary for my education to be financially feasible. As the costs associated with attending college rises, the gaps left by federal financial aid widens. This scholarship fulfill a large portion of my gap. Thank you for your consideration.

As a proud Black lesbian woman, I carry my identity with pride and purpose. Being part of the LGBTQ+ community has taught me how to fight for my place in a world that doesn’t always understand me—and that fight has made me stronger, more compassionate, and more determined to create change. I know what it feels like to go without support, to not see yourself represented, to feel like your voice doesn’t matter. That’s why I show up for others the way I wish someone had shown up for me. I’ve always had a heart for people, especially those who get pushed to the margins. In my personal life, I’m the friend people come to for support, encouragement, or just a safe space to breathe. I’ve mentored younger LGBTQ+ folks, held space for people struggling with identity and mental health, and spoken up even when my voice shook. That’s not just community—it’s responsibility. And I take that seriously. Right now, I’m studying Human Services, and I plan to continue on to get my bachelor’s and master’s in Social Work. I want to become a licensed social worker and eventually open a community center that offers free, holistic resources for those who need them most. I’m talking about real support—free health screenings, mental health counseling, dental services, housing help, school enrollment, legal aid—the whole nine. I want folks, especially LGBTQ+ folks and people of color, to have a place they can go and not feel judged, turned away, or forgotten. A place where they can breathe and be seen. I currently work full-time as an activities aide in a rehab facility, caring for seniors while juggling school. It’s not easy, but I do it because I’m invested in this mission. Receiving a scholarship would mean everything to me—it would help relieve some of the financial stress and give me the space to focus more on my education and long-term goals. I’m funding this dream out of pocket, and like many others, I don’t have a safety net. This support would allow me to keep pushing forward without burning out. I’m not in this work for recognition or a paycheck. I’m in it because I know what it’s like to need help and not know where to turn. I’m working hard to be the kind of social worker and community builder that creates real, lasting change. This scholarship would be more than financial aid—it would be a step toward helping me build something powerful for the next generation.

My experience in the LGTBTQ+ community has shape my goal to become a Registered Nurse (RN) by obtaining a BSN degree and passing the NCLEX-RN examination to obtain a nursing license. Growing up I always felt like an outcast but since the LGBTQ+ movement I have come out of my shell and been able to pursue my dream of helping others through nursing.      I aim to gain valuable clinical experience during my education. It has been my lifelong dream to make a positive impact on the lives of those that are like myself and once felt alienated and afraid to be their true selves.  I will use my passion to provide compassionate and high-quality care, advocate for my patients’ rights, and actively contribute to improving healthcare outcomes for those who still feel like they do not have a voice.      As an aspiring nursing student I have a goal of advancing into leadership or a management position within a local healthcare organization. I aspire to become nurse manager, director, or administrator to positively influence policy, improve healthcare delivery, and lead teams of healthcare professionals.      I would love the opportunity to participate in the advancement of nursing and gain knowledge through research or evidence-based practice. I aim to conduct research studies, participate in scholarly projects, or implement evidence-based interventions to improve patient care.    I would use this scholarship to cover tuition and fees associated with my nursing program. It would be a blessing to have the scholarship funds pay for my educational expenses, ensuring that I can focus on my studies without the financial stress.          Nursing programs require textbooks, uniforms, clinical supplies, and other materials. I plan on allocating a portion of the scholarship towards purchasing these necessary items to support my learning and clinical experiences.       I have also considered using the funds to attend nursing conferences, workshops, or seminars that can enhance my knowledge and skills in specific areas of nursing thereby growing my professional development. This scholarship will cover the costs associated with obtaining my nursing license or certifications. I will use the scholarship funds to pay for these fees, ensuring that I am prepared for my nursing career upon graduation.      Achieving my long-term goals of pursuing an advanced degree and certifications in nursing will give me the opportunity to help those in need that are unable to help themselves. This scholarship will help me continue my professional development and open doors to higher-level nursing roles in my future.           I have always wanted the knowledge of being able to heal others, especially in an emergency situation. In my previous professions I subconsciously sought out careers that enabled me to attend to persons in need. My first employment was with AHRC a state funded agency specializing in working with special needs children where I took on the role of a direct support professional. At another stage of my life, I even became a flight attendant for Delta Airlines, where the safety of others was my main focus.             In both of these positions of employment, I felt comfort in knowing that I had the knowledge and ability to save the lives of those I was assisting or attending in case a crisis event arose. I have taken CPR class and First-aid many times throughout the years to ensure my certifications were always up to date, when I finally receive my RN certificate there will be no limit to how many people I can save and heal.

As a queer teenager growing up in a conservative town, I leapt at the opportunity to be in my high school’s first inclusivity club. From junior high to my senior year, a tiny GSA club called Sanctuary became my home, and I was lucky enough to be able to lead it for 4 years. Being the person in charge of such an important, safe place for young kids and teens was an eye-opening experience and was a key inspiration for my love of psychology. For as long as I can remember, I have always been extremely open with my identity and how I express myself through clothes, artwork, and music. Unfortunately, in the close-knit community that I grew up in, my “eccentric style” was not as accepted as I’d hoped it would be. Luckily, my young naiveness kept me from realizing the amount of bullying and harassment I was enduring on a day-to-day basis. It wasn’t until about 7th grade, when I was outed to my entire school, that I became fully aware of my situation. From that moment on, being pushed around and yelled at for looking and acting differently became less funny and confusing and much more stressful. Luckily, once I entered high school, I realized that there were a lot more targets available than just a thirteen-year-old with a ton of confidence and even more Hawaiian shirts. After half a year of searching for a community that I felt safe in, I stumbled into Sanctuary Club. The first meeting I attended was in mid-December of 2019, when it was composed of about 11 teenagers with one teacher sitting in a circle and talking about their feelings. For some inexplicable reason, hearing about the ups-and-downs of this group struck a chord in me, and I knew that somehow this was going to be a huge part of my life. Through a year and a half of remote meetings, where our members slowly started dwindling in number, I stuck with the club and eventually began to lead the group. I was making calls to schools, working with county-wide organizations, and giving my whole life to 5 people who could not have cared less, all at the age of fourteen. During the summer before sophomore year, our advisor left, our old members had graduated, and it was my job to rebuild Sanctuary from the ground up. From then on, our club became an activist group for education and equality, specifically surrounding the LGBTQ community, around the school. In my time leading this brand-new group of students, I saw shy kids become loud, proud advocates for the LGBTQ community and fight for what they believed in. I witnessed eighth graders standing up against juniors and seniors to protect themselves and their classmates. After years of giving back to my small community, and building up an army of young, passionate activists, my love for psychology had been sparked. I'm currently planning to enroll in SUNY Binghamton, which is on the more expensive side of SUNY colleges. Earning the scholarship will help me in being able to attend the full 4 years and eventually get my doctorate. I aim to become an even bigger advocate for LGBTQ rights, as I'm heading off to a very large environment, and a scholarship like this will be a huge step in helping me get there.

Reflecting on where I am in life and the path I have taken to get here, I wouldn’t change a thing. Although most people raised with the knowledge of being transgender will experience tribulations, I hope that I can speak for many of us in saying that these experiences have shaped me into who I am today. I will be forever grateful for having been accepted into my top choice college at SUNY Polytechnic through their dual degree BS/MD program, and recognize that I would not have found myself in the position in life that I am without the road, however difficult it may have been, that I’ve taken. Up until the 8th grade, I was enrolled in a private school that espoused stereotypical gender norms and viewed my boyish appearance and behavior with contempt. To the faculty and students, I was seen as an oddity; I lacked any modicum of femininity, and deviated from their expectations regarding the pursuit of knowledge by young girls. As time passed, I came to realize that I did not live up to others’ expectations because I was not what others expected; I was a transgender male attempting to survive in an environment non-conducive to my acceptance. Despite performing at the top of the class, I was routinely antagonized by my teachers and alienated by classmates. I endured that way of life for years, until my eventual return to a public-school, where I was able to openly identify as male in a school setting for the first time. Although harboring some reservations regarding my identity and ability to take pride in it, I found myself longing to advocate for others in the LGBTQ+ community. I joined my high school’s Gay/Straight Alliance (GSA) club my freshman year of high school - becoming vice-president sophomore year, then president for both my junior and senior years. Throughout my time in GSA, I noted the similarities between my younger self and the growing number of diverse persons in relation to their need for acceptance. By establishing myself as a support system, I knew I could provide validation in a way I felt was lacking in my earlier developmental years. I began meeting with school officials to advocate for a protected space for transgender or gender non-conforming individuals to use the restroom and comfortably change for gym class. Through these efforts, I successfully secured the approval for my high school’s first gender neutral bathroom. The construction of this facility not only provided a decided degree of comfort, it also served as an undeniable sign of support for our community. The acceptance I have felt towards my community and myself has only grown since then, continuing on as I have left home in pursuit of a higher level of education. Alongside my studies as a Biology major and Chemistry minor, I make time to try to address the needs of those around me through meetings with student government and faculty regarding implementation of further gender neutral restrooms, as well as suggestions to improve the name changing policy on campus. Serving the LGBTQ+ community has become a significant priority of mine, and will continue to play a major role in my life as I eventually pursue my medical degree through SUNY Upstate Medical in affiliation with SUNY Polytechnic. With the assistance provided from this scholarship, I would be able to decrease the financial burden these next 11 years of schooling will place on me, and strive to become a doctor that plays an active role in facilitating inclusion and diversity to better address the needs of my community.

I am a native New Yorker, I come from a residential community in the Bronx called Pelham Bay. It holds over ten thousand people, and yet everyone is connected. The place itself seems to be stuck in time with the way things work, the same family businesses are running, the same school rivalries continue, and the same traditional values are set in place. And even though the people in my neighborhood are obsessed with Bronx and New York history, I’ve never heard or learned about Stonewall until I started high school. In my community, there aren’t many people like me, a daughter of a single mother who doesn’t go to the zoned high school and a lesbian. Where I’m from you can’t be gay and successful, you’d be wasted potential. All that I’ve accomplished wouldn’t matter because it’s such a shame I wasn’t “right”. When talking to others in my neighborhood I could share all my new achievements and everything new with me, and say that I know it’s a shame I don’t have a boyfriend yet but it’s because I’m focusing on school. To me, college is about growing as a person and I hope to do that in an environment where I don’t have to hide my sexuality. And if that sort of safe space isn’t at my college, I’d make one. It’s an important part of me that I’ve had to hide from my home for so long and I no longer want to feel that way. I want to be able to embrace every part of myself and not my sexuality as a setback to help others in my future community who’ve experienced the same. Besides being part of a supportive community college is something very important to me regarding my future. I am a first-generation student who was raised by a single mother. I plan on going into medicine and have done my best to be involved with it as much as I can so I can ensure my place in a good institution. I’m in my school's pre-med and advocacy club and am the leader/founder of my school's book club. I also volunteer my time as a lab tech and peer tutor at my school during my free time as well as hospital shadowing that I did over the summer in the ER. Even though what I’ve done isn't exactly linked to the LGBTQ+ community, I am a part of the community, and any success and accomplishments I’ve achieved directly reflect those of my peers. Receiving this scholarship will allow me to receive both an education and a community without having too much financial burden.

As a member of the LGBTQ+ community, this scholarship will help me pursue my educational goal of becoming a biomedical engineer. Engineering as a male-dominated field has some downsides to it. For example, the Harvard Business Review conducted a survey that resulted in the finding that 40% of female engineering students do not finish their degree because of the "masculine culture" of engineering itself. (Silbey, 2016). As a gay woman, I feel that these experiences of being treated differently would pertain to me especially. I would love to be able to one day give back to the community that has accepted me with such open arms. When I went to my first pride parade, I was 16 years old. I went with my best friend, who is also gay, and who ultimately convinced me to go to this event. I was absolutely terrified. I had come out not a month ago, and here I was at this enormous festival celebrating what I am, but was too scared to admit to being a mere four weeks ago. We stopped at a tent on the corner of the street run by a few older women whom all had rainbow ribbons feathers in their hair and clothes. Perhaps I looked nervous, because the leader of the tent took me from my friend for a moment, and asked me why I was there. I responded that I was there for my friend because he had asked me to accompany him. She turned me around to reveal my orange, white, and pink pride flag sewn into the back of my jean jacket and took my hands in hers. She told me, "It does not matter who you love, it does not matter who hates you for it, and it does not matter what anyone else has to say about it. You are welcome here. Do not feel ashamed to be something that you did not choose. Have pride.". Her words ring in my head often. Being able to get through college would be an amazing achievement because I would be studying exactly what I love and doing it for the community that loved me without hesitation. In the future, I plan to work to improve the mechanics and processes of gender-affirming surgery. I want to work with teens and young adults to truly expand the research being done on these types of surgeries, and discover how we can make it safer and better. Transgender people deserve to feel seen and understood, and that should reflect in the quality of affirming surgery they receive. I truly believe this to be my ultimate goal in life, and even if my efforts make one person's surgery slightly less painful, the results slightly more euphoric, or the recovery slightly less time, I will have considered my ultimate goal complete. I cannot thank you enough for your consideration. I truly am grateful that there are people in this world that are so generous as to set aside funds for people who identify as LGBTQ+ to study. I cannot wait to be able to help my community and to see the smiles that I indirectly helped create. References: Silbey, S. (2016). Why Do So Many Women Who Study Engineering Leave the Field?. Harvard Business Law. Retrieved April 29, 2023, from https://hbr.org/2016/08/why-do-so-many-women-who-study-engineering-leave-the-field

My aspirations to become a physician, coupled with my desire to address the medical needs of LGBTQ+ community and surgical needs of trans people, have been the driving force behind my ongoing pursuit of academic excellence. My work in this regard has proven successful as I recently learned of earning Valedictorian status of my senior class; a feat that entailed significant effort and diligence to achieve. My commitment to these academic endeavors has been unwavering with the purposeful intent of preparing me for the rigors of the extremely competitive BS/MD dual degree program I will begin in Fall 2023. My interest in becoming a physician was sparked by many circumstances that occurred during my upbringing, and later fueled by the events that unfolded after socially coming out as a transgender male in the 8th grade. My proclamation at a young age was followed by an oftentimes painstaking journey that ultimately led me, years later, to gender affirming surgery; an event that cast light on the paucity of available resources in my area. That artistic surgery led to an epiphany; I could meld my passion for art and serving the LGBTQ+ community, with my interest in medicine into a career in reconstructive surgery for those with gender dysphoria. While I have endured a multitude of the struggles experienced by many members of the trans community, I am a firm believer that my successful perseverance of these obstacles, both in the past and those likely to occur in my future, will prove integral in helping me become a successful surgeon who is steadfast in promoting social justice, and dedicated to serving the LGBTQ+ community. In addition to the personal experiences that initiated my journey towards working in the field of reconstructive/gender affirming surgery, my passion and inspiration for these endeavors come from my research on the work by Stanley H. Biber - A pioneer in sex reassignment surgery who helped modernize transgender healthcare. Biber recognized the importance of assessing a patient's goodness of fit for transitioning and revolutionized many of the techniques utilized to determine a patient's readiness and preparedness for the impending change. In essence, he was one of the first medical scientists to consider the mind-body interplay and the bidirectional nature of influence between one’s emotional and physical well-being with positive treatment outcomes. Although Dr. Biber was integral in taking the first steps towards addressing the totality of needs presented by trans individuals, transgender people continue to be routinely antagonized and ostracized for attempts to align their physical appearance with their gender identity. It is my goal to continue Dr. Biber’s crusade and mitigate the dysphoria of trans people, not only through advocacy, but by spearheading innovative practices to modernize and transform this field of medicine. It is at this time that I take pause and reflect with gratitude to be at this place in my life - at the precipice of taking the first steps towards a future I have consciously and purposefully planned out, and one that I witness in sincere reverence as it begins to unfold. Facing the distant future and looking beyond the 12+ year academic and training path ahead of me (i.e., 4 years for bachelor's, 4 years for medical school, and multiple years for residency and fellowship), my future sights involve my ultimate ambition of utilizing my medical degree in a manner that benefits the trans and LGBTQ+ community. Overall, I am extremely excited at the prospect of a career in medicine, and look forward to the prospect of dedicating my services to the WNY’s trans community in this capacity.

As a young Indian bisexual woman, I have always felt a deep connection to the struggles of marginalized communities. Growing up in New York City, I witnessed the pain and fear of those who were not able to speak their truth about their gender identities. The constant pressure to conform to societal norms and expectations often left many feeling alone and repressed. It was during my high school years that I had an acquaintance who was terrified of outing herself as a lesbian. She was worried about the repercussions she might face, such as being outed to her family and the possibility of being ostracized from her community. It was then that I realized the dire need for a safe space where she and others like her could freely express themselves without fear of discrimination or harm. I took it upon myself to organize our school's Gender Sexuality Alliance (GSA) club, which aimed to provide a platform for LGBTQ+ students to discuss their experiences and seek support from their peers. Our club meetings were always filled with emotional discussions, thought-provoking debates, and a sense of belonging that was sorely lacking in our school community. It was incredibly heartening to witness the impact our club had on our school community. Students who were previously hesitant to speak out began to find their voices and share their stories, and for the first time, many felt seen and heard. Through our GSA club, I had the opportunity to make a meaningful difference in the lives of many young people and empower them to be their authentic selves. As I move on to my college years, I am excited to continue my journey of advocacy and community-building. One of the organizations that caught my eye at Fordham University is their PRIDE Alliance, which aims to create a safe and inclusive environment for LGBTQ+ students on campus. Joining this group would allow me to continue developing a safe space for everyone to share their stories and to empower others to embrace their true selves. In today's society, where hate and discrimination continue to rear their ugly heads, it is more important than ever to advocate for marginalized communities. Through my experiences with the GSA club, I have seen firsthand how powerful it can be to create a space where individuals can be their true selves without fear of judgement. I am passionate about promoting social justice and creating a more inclusive society for everyone, regardless of their sexual orientation, gender identity, or background. As a young Indian bisexual woman, I know that I have a unique perspective to offer in the fight for equality and acceptance. I want to use my voice and my experiences to make a positive impact on the world, and I believe that joining the PRIDE Alliance at Fordham is the perfect way to do just that. I am excited to continue my journey of advocacy, and I hope to inspire others to do the same.