When I’m not rowing at the Peachtree City Rowing Club or completing summer reading assignments, I spend my summers volunteering at the Fayette CARE Clinic. This small clinic in Fayette County, Georgia gives free healthcare to hundreds of uninsured, low-income families within the Fayette County area. My dad encouraged me to volunteer at the clinic, located across the road from the hospital where he works, as a way to explore my interest in medicine by learning from healthcare professionals. I envisioned myself drawing blood, wrapping bandages, and learning how to save people’s lives with limited medical equipment; however, my real responsibilities varied greatly from the Grey's Anatomy influenced scenarios I had created in my head. Instead of working with doctors and patients directly, I spent most of my time tucked away in a back room. The mind numbing computer work and paper filing made my afternoons at the clinic during my first summer seem endless. Nevertheless, sifting through patient charts and updating registration information taught me much about how a free clinic is run. Due to a lack of volunteers, the waiting lists for patients to see dentists, physicians, and optometrists stretched out for months. It struck me as strange that some people faced the uncertainty of seeing a doctor on a yearly basis, but that was reality for patients at the clinic. The real learning, however, began during the pandemic. Because the clinic relies on government grants to function, the pandemic impacted the money the clinic was receiving and the staff that we were able to keep. During the first summer of the pandemic, the clinic was the most short staffed I had ever seen. Subsequently, I was asked to take on more responsibilities by moving up to the front desk. There, I began to help with phone calls and scheduling appointments. As I interacted with the patients in the clinic, I realized that they were more than just the information listed in their charts. These people were members of my community who had families, jobs, and dreams. The only difference between me and the patients at the Fayette CARE Clinic was our difference in socioeconomic status. But, should a difference in socioeconomic status determine who receives quality healthcare? One of the worst discrepancies between the Fayette CARE Clinic and the hospital across the road where my dad worked was the transition that each facility made to online appointments during the pandemic. While the hospital had access to funds to buy the best medical software on which to conduct online appointments, the clinic struggled to find budget friendly platforms that met HIPAA requirements and were easy for patients to use. Studies have shown that people of lower socioeconomic backgrounds, like those at the clinic, were more likely to test positive for COVID. However, even though these people are the ones that needed the most help, they didn’t have the access they needed to online appointments with a healthcare professional. COVID didn’t discriminate on the basis of wage, but the healthcare system of America continued to do so. My experiences at the clinic influenced my decision to major in Global Health. The healthcare system of America is in need of major reform, and I plan to be a leader for change in this field. I don’t have an immediate plan of action to battle socioeconomic discrimination in healthcare, but I plan to take advantage of every opportunity that university provides in order to educate myself and collaborate with other to form a viable solution.

“Don’t get too comfortable in a single, because you aren't going to be racing one come fall season.” No athlete likes to hear discouraging words from their coach, especially when they stem from skin color rather than athletic ability. As I flew down the racecourse, I realized that I wasn’t just racing to prove myself to my coaches; I was racing to prove that people like me, people of color, can be successful rowers. When I crossed the finish line of my five thousand meter race, I heard the chanting of my name and cheers from my teammates. Exhilarated by the moment, I wanted people of all skin colors to be able to have a similar experience. Racial discrimination in the rowing community is a conversation that’s just getting started. Socioeconomic barriers keep many people of color from joining rowing, leading to majority white teams and discrimination that goes largely unchecked. While I have to prove that I’m a competitive athlete, my white teammates are given opportunities simply based on their physical appearance. Because of how racial discrimination runs rampant in the rowing community, I spent six months preparing for a race to prove to my coaches that I’m a serious athlete. My history with discrimination not only impacted the reasons why I row, but also motivated me to become a sports brand ambassador with a platform to advocate for change. Sports brings people across the world together, and all athletes should play on an equal field.

“Don’t get too comfortable in a single, because you aren't going to be racing one come fall season.” No athlete likes to hear discouraging words from their coach, especially when they stem from skin color rather than athletic ability. As I flew down the racecourse, I realized that I wasn’t just racing to prove myself to my coaches; I was racing to prove that people like me, people of color, can be successful rowers. When I crossed the finish line of my five thousand meter race, I heard the chanting of my name and cheers from my teammates. Exhilarated by the moment, I wanted people of all skin colors to be able to have a similar experience. Racial discrimination in the rowing community is a conversation that’s just getting started. Socioeconomic barriers keep many people of color from joining rowing, leading to majority white teams and discrimination that goes largely unchecked. While I have to prove that I’m a competitive athlete, my white teammates are given opportunities simply based on their physical appearance. Because of how racial discrimination runs rampant in the rowing community, I spent six months preparing for a race to prove to my coaches that I’m a serious athlete. My history with discrimination not only impacted the reasons why I row, but also motivated me to become a sports brand ambassador with a platform to advocate for change. Sports brings people across the world together, and all athletes should play on an equal field.

“Don’t get too comfortable in a single, because you aren't going to be racing one come fall season.” Despite the discouraging words of my coach during my summer training sessions, I fought for the opportunity to prove my athletic abilities in a single person boat at one of the biggest competitions in the country. As I flew down the racecourse, I realized that I wasn’t just racing to prove myself to my coaches; I was racing to prove that people like me, people of color, can be successful rowers. The chanting of my name and cheers from my teammates as I crossed the finish line of my five thousand meter race gave me an exhilarating feeling that people of all skin colors should be able to experience. Racial discrimination in the rowing community is a conversation that’s just getting started. Socioeconomic barriers keep many people of color from joining rowing, leading to majority white teams and discrimination that goes largely unchecked. While I have to prove that I’m a competitive athlete, my white teammates are given opportunities simply based on their physical appearance. Because of how racial discrimination goes unchecked in the rowing community, I spent six months preparing for a race to prove to my coaches that I’m a serious athlete. While I will never regret rowing that race, it is not something that I should have had to do in order to be considered worthy of attention from my coaches. My history with discrimination not only impacted the reasons why I row, but also motivated me to become a sports brand ambassador with a platform to advocate for change. This past summer, I was accepted to the USRowing Olympic Development Program, a month-long training camp which brings together the best athletes and coaches in the country. At ODP, coaches of color from multiple youth and collegiate rowing organizations hosted weekly discussions regarding racial discrimination within the rowing community. Listening to rowers of color recount their experiences with discrimination made my own experiences feel justified. While scrolling through my Instagram feed upon returning home, I came across the opportunity to become an ambassador for JL Racing, one of the biggest rowing apparel companies in the world. Feeling empowered by the discussions I had with the athletes and coaches at ODP, I applied to be an ambassador. When I received my acceptance letter to be an ambassador for JL Racing, I knew that applying had been the right decision. My ambassadorship gives me an accredited platform to use to educate people about discrimination and advocate for change within the rowing community. As a student at George Washington, I would have the incredible opportunity to meet other rowers and athletes of color. Together, we can unite to create change within rowing and across all sports. Sports, after all, brings people across the world together, and all athletes deserve to play on an equal field.

The Fayette CARE Clinic gives free healthcare to hundreds of people without health insurance in Fayette County. When I signed up to volunteer at the clinic, I envisioned myself drawing blood and wrapping bandages. On the contrary, I spent most of my time updating files and sifting through paperwork. Although it didn’t seem like I was learning much, I could identify the tell-tale signs of drug addiction in a patient's chart and determine what blood pressure levels indicated cardiovascular disease by the end of my second summer. The real learning, however, began during the pandemic. Due to a shortage of workers at the clinic, I moved up to the front desk to help with phone calls and daily operations. Seeing the faces of patients whose records I’d read in the past hit me full force. I spent so much time reading the words “drug addict,” “low income,” and “uninsured” in patient charts that I subconsciously formed a negative mental image of the patients who seek healthcare at the clinic. People start at different levels and experience different obstacles in life. The fact that everyone’s lives are different should not determine who can and cannot receive healthcare. At a first glance, many people fail to see a person as more than how much money they make. By using the PreMed club at my school to teach my community and future generation of doctors to look past socioeconomic standards, I believe that free healthcare for all will one day be a reality.

For the past three years, I have been volunteering at The Fayette CARE Clinic. This small clinic gives free healthcare to hundreds of people without health insurance in Fayette County. When I signed up to volunteer at the clinic, I envisioned myself drawing blood and wrapping bandages. On the contrary, I spent most of my time updating files and sifting through paperwork. Although it didn’t seem like I was learning much, I could identify the tell-tale signs of drug addiction in a patient's chart and determine what blood pressure levels indicated cardiovascular disease by the end of my second summer. The real learning, however, began during the pandemic. Due to a shortage of workers at the clinic, I moved up to the front desk to help with phone calls and daily operations. Seeing the faces of patients whose records I’d read in the past hit me full force. I spent so much time reading the words “drug addict,” “low income,” and “uninsured” in patient charts that I subconsciously formed a negative mental image of the patients who seek healthcare at the clinic. People start at different levels and experience different obstacles in life. The fact that everyone’s lives are different should not determine who can and cannot receive healthcare. At a first glance, many people fail to see a person as more than how much money they make. By using the PreMed club at my school to teach my community and future generation of doctors to look past socioeconomic standards, I believe that free healthcare for all will one day be a reality.

I’ve rowed in freezing rain, blistering heat, and drenching humidity; however, no amount of bad weather will ever outweigh the sunset I witnessed on my first day of practice. Sitting in an eight-man rowing shell in the middle of Lake McIntosh, I watched Mother Nature slash brilliant streaks of pink and red paint on her canvas above me. I hardly registered the cold goosebumps on my skin as I saw the sun transform into a bright orange-red orb and sink behind the trees. Heavy breathing and the sound of blades pushing through the water rhythmically broke the silence as everyone soaked in the glorious display of nature. That sunset set the tone for my athletic career on the rowing team. Looking back on the past four years, I find myself as awestruck with my personal and leadership growth as I was with that first sunset.

“Don’t get too comfortable in a single, because you aren't going to be racing one come fall season.” Racial discrimination in the rowing community is a conversation that’s just getting started. Socioeconomic barriers keep many people of color from joining rowing, leading to majority white teams and discrimination that goes largely unchecked. While I have to prove that I’m a competitive athlete, my white teammates are given opportunities simply based on their physical appearance. Despite the discouraging words of my coach, I secured the opportunity to prove my athletic abilities in a single person boat. As I flew down the racecourse, I realized that I wasn’t just racing to prove myself to my coaches; I was racing to prove that people like me, people of color, can be successful rowers. The chanting of my name and cheers from my teammates as I crossed the finish line of my five thousand meter race gave me an exhilarating feeling that people of all skin colors should be able to experience. Because of how racial discrimination goes unchecked in the rowing community, I spent six months preparing for a race to prove to my coaches that I’m a serious athlete. My history with discrimination not only impacted the reasons why I row, but also motivated me to become a sports brand ambassador with a platform to advocate for change. Sports brings people across the world together, and all athletes should play on an equal field.

“Don’t get too comfortable in a single, because you aren't going to be racing one come fall season.” Racial discrimination in the rowing community is a conversation that’s just getting started. Socioeconomic barriers keep many people of color from joining rowing, leading to majority white teams and discrimination that goes largely unchecked. While I have to prove that I’m a competitive athlete, my white teammates are given opportunities simply based on their physical appearance. Despite the discouraging words of my coach, I secured the opportunity to prove my athletic abilities in a single person boat. As I flew down the racecourse, I realized that I wasn’t just racing to prove myself to my coaches; I was racing to prove that people like me, people of color, can be successful rowers. The chanting of my name and cheers from my teammates as I crossed the finish line of my five thousand meter race gave me an exhilarating feeling that people of all skin colors should be able to experience. Because of how racial discrimination goes unchecked in the rowing community, I spent six months preparing for a race to prove to my coaches that I’m a serious athlete. My history with discrimination not only impacted the reasons why I row, but also motivated me to become a sports brand ambassador with a platform to advocate for change. Sports brings people across the world together, and all athletes should play on an equal field.

After three years of competing in second-tier lineups on my rowing team, I finally had my “breakthrough” season. Medaling by myself at the second largest regatta in the country and claiming the only gold medal of the fall season justified all my off season training and hard work. Although racing by myself and winning on my own merit was gratifying, I joined rowing because I loved working with my teammates. I thought that becoming team captain would give me the respected title I needed to change the mindset and work ethic of the team to one as hardworking as my own. After applying to be team captain, my coach made a surprising decision; she announced me and Jocalyn, the previous captain, as co-captains. Despite our dislike for our titles, Jocalyn agreed with my vision to change the team. Our good intentions, however, were met with hostility. My teammates refused to acknowledge me as co-captain, and the team activities and extra practices I organized were completely disregarded. In the face of our team’s opposition, Jocalyn and I were completely stunned. Amidst a pandemic, the recruiting process, and a stressful junior-year course load, the high from my breakthrough season transformed into self doubt and left me questioning my ability to be a captain. When Jocalyn broke down in the middle of a workout, it seemed as if all hope was lost. Even though I had initially disliked our co-captain positions, the girl crying in front of me had been my team captain before we had been co-captains. I looked up to and respected Jocalyn more than anyone else on the team, and it stunned me to see her crumble during a workout. On our way out of practice that night, Jocalyn opened up to me about the pressure she felt to perform well at every practice because she had been recruited to row in college. When Jocalyn was my team captain, I worked hard because she worked hard. Seeing her push through her workouts and encourage others to get through theirs made me want to persevere through mine. Even when she broke down in front of me and confessed her own insecurities, I never doubted that Jocalyn was a strong rower and leader. I realized that I couldn’t change the mindset and work ethic of my teammates, but I could change my own by modifying the way I handled the responsibility of being a leader. When our coach quit at the beginning of the next season, the topic of team captain became the least of our concerns. During the transition between coaches, I found myself stepping up to take charge. Instead of preaching to my teammates about the value of hard work, I simply gave them the opportunity to work hard. Switching around lineups, listening to feedback, and facilitating productive discussions proved more effective than extra workouts in creating a motivated team environment. My team had a strong fall season of racing, and I can’t wait to see what happens in spring.

After three years of competing in second-tier lineups on my rowing team, I finally had my “breakthrough” season. Medaling by myself at the second largest regatta in the country and claiming the only gold medal of the fall season justified all my off season training and hard work. The effects of my success on the water carried over into my social life as well, granting me entrance to the group of elite varsity rowers on the team. Although being part of this group, racing by myself, and winning on my own merit was gratifying, I joined rowing because I loved working with my teammates. I thought that becoming team captain would give me the respected title I needed to change the mindset and work ethic of the team to one as hardworking as my own. However, I soon learned that respect is earned, not given. After applying to be team captain, my coach made a surprising decision; she announced me and Jocalyn, the previous captain, as co-captains. Despite our dislike for our titles, Jocalyn agreed with my vision to change the team. Our good intentions, however, were met with hostility. My teammates refused to acknowledge me as a captain, and the team bonding activities and extra practices I organized were completely disregarded. In the face of our team’s opposition, me and my co-captain were completely stunned. Amidst a pandemic, the recruiting process, and a stressful junior-year course load, the high from my breakthrough season transformed into self doubt and left me questioning my ability to be a captain. When Jocalyn broke down in the middle of a workout, it seemed as if all hope was lost. Even though I had initially disliked our co-captain positions, the girl crying in front of me had been my team captain before we had been co-captains. I looked up to and respected Jocalyn more than anyone else on the team, and it stunned me to see her crumble during a workout. On our way out of practice that night, Jocalyn opened up to me about the pressure she felt to perform well at every practice because she had been recruited to row in college. Upon hearing her confession, the true responsibility of being a leader hit me. When Jocalyn was my team captain, I worked hard because she worked hard. Seeing her push through her workouts and encourage others to get through theirs made me want to persevere through mine. Even when she broke down in front of me and confessed her own insecurities, I never doubted that Jocalyn was a strong rower and leader. I realized that I couldn’t change the mindset and work ethic of my teammates, but I could change my own by modifying the way I handled the responsibility of being a leader. After the opposition I’d faced from my teammates, I accepted that my time as captain had come to an end. When our coach quit at the beginning of the next season, however, the topic of team captain became the least of our concerns. Our new coach asked me to help him during his transition, and I found myself effortlessly stepping up to take charge. Instead of preaching to my teammates about the value of hard work, I simply gave them the opportunity to work hard. Switching around lineups, listening to their feedback, and facilitating productive discussions proved more effective than extra workouts in creating a motivated team environment. My team had a strong fall season of racing, and I can’t wait to see what happens in spring.

There is a distinct difference between a singer and an artist, and no one makes this difference more clear than Freddie Mercury. Through the six minute masterpiece which is "Bohemian Rhapsody," Freddie Mercury makes a moving confessional about how much happier he would have been during his life if he had been able to be himself. Upon first hearing this song, I thought that it was just as crazy as Freddie Mercury himself; however, my opinion changed as I broke down the meaning of the lyrics and paired them with the melody of the music. Freddie Mercury was a true artist who combined meaningful lyrics with symbolic music, ultimately creating an inspiring piece of art.

The concept of independence centers around being able to support yourself mentally and physically. In contrast to what most believe, this doesn't mean that independent people are cut off from others. On the contrary, independent people are able to support themselves in such a way that they are aware of when they need help from those around them. In other words, independent people know what they can handle on their own and strive to take on any task that they can properly manage; however, independent people also know that collaboration is necessary to complete certain tasks. My independence and having the ability to provide for myself is something that I value deeply. Nevertheless, I am still learning about what it means to be truly independent. Asking for help is not something that I enjoy doing. For a long time, I equated asking for help with me not being capable of doing something. Correlating weakness with asking for help brought me to a standstill in my quest for independence, forcing me to reflect on what independence truly is. My learning lesson took on the form of my freshman biology class. Throughout the first unit of the class, I refused to admit that I was struggling with the material. The outcome of not asking for help was a failing grade which opened my eyes to the fact that I would need to seek help in order to raise my grade. By asking my teacher questions over the course of the next unit, I was able to understand the material and learned how to study the taught information. By the end of the year, I relied less upon my teacher to understand the material. Understanding when to ask for help is one of the biggest components of being independent.

After failing to be recognized as a top athlete on my rowing team, I took my training into my own hands. During summer, I rowed relentlessly in the Georgia heat to increase my stamina and strength. The men’s coach told me “not to get too comfortable rowing in a single, because I wouldn’t be rowing one come fall.” At the second largest regatta in the country, my coach gave me the opportunity to compete in a one person boat. Up against two collegiate rowers and two junior rowers, I flew down the race course and became a silver medalist.