From next-door neighbors to extended family, my family seemed to be a source of inspiration and admiration to everyone around us. The heartwarming story of my parents opening their hearts and adopting a disabled orphan girl from China painted a picture of love, compassion, and strength. However, behind the façade of a picture-perfect family, was a constant darkness lurking in the shadows. It was not just a few glasses a day; it was bottles of her favorite wine that my mother consumed from the moment she woke up to throughout a single day. My mother’s emotional outburst, driven by her addiction, casted a dark cloud over our family. The unpredictable nature of her behavior created a volatile and tense environment, where fear and anxiety hid the unconditional love that existed. It wasn’t until my mother’s sudden diagnosis of stage 4 pancreatic cancer that the truth could no longer hide itself behind a rose-tinted picture frame. As the cancer weakened her body, I finally saw how frail her mind was. During that time, I was hit with a rush of different emotions – confusion, anger, sadness, and finally realization. My mother had never overcome her trauma and now her body had finally succumbed to the toxins she had poisoned herself all these years with to numb the pain. She passed away only a month after her diagnosis, finally ending her life-long war with addiction. The sudden and devastating death of my mother left a void in my life. Amid the grief and confusion, my father and I found ourselves navigating a distant relationship while processing our grief and adapting to our new reality. With my disability adding another layer of complexity, my father had to take on more medical and emotional responsibilities. Despite overcoming his own grief, my father stepped up to the plate in ways I will be forever grateful for. My mother’s struggles gave me a sense of purpose, and a drive to make sense of the chaos that had consumed my family’s life. I became interested in genetics and medicine as there was a clear history of mental illness and cancer in my mother’s family. Discovering the intricacies of addiction gave me the closure and understanding I had desperately sought in the wake of her death. I came to recognize the depth of her pain and the strength it took for her to face each day, despite her demons. Over time, my father and I were able to build the bridge to our bond and we leaned on each other for support. Together, we hold a mutual determination to honor her memory and create a legacy of love, compassion, and resilience.

In a world where everyone competes to be the best of the best, the top 1%, I have always strived to be average, to be part of the other 99%. But with a prominent hunchback and braces strapped to my legs, my ambition is quite ironic. Cerebral palsy has made my life anything but average. From navigating insecurities about my disability to overcoming learning difficulties, my personal and educational journeys have been marked with adversity. Standing out requires minimal effort on my part. Growing up, I was constantly asked “Why do you walk that way?” to which my autopilot response was always “I was born this way” before forming an escape plan to avoid further questions. Teachers would learn my name through monthly doctor’s notes excusing my absences as I had to make the four-hour car trips to Shriners Children’s Hospital for new braces and muscle relaxants. Cerebral palsy made me far from the average classmate, but I was still fortunate to have a mild form of it. Yet, in a society that often measures disability by its visibility, I have fought with the insecurity of not being “disabled” enough for my struggles to be validated. While I am not in a wheelchair or fully mentally handicapped, abilities that others have taken for granted require extra effort on my part. Similarly, my educational journey has been motivated by the desire to be average despite my challenges with cerebral palsy. As an advanced student, I have always excelled in my studies, continuously surpassing expectations from my parents and teachers. However, I have always had to work harder compared to my classmates to grasp the same material. The dissonance between my intellectual capabilities and my cognitive impairments often left me frustrated, but ignited a determination to bridge the gap between potential and reality. This has led me to outside opportunities to narrow the gap of support and resources for medically disabled people. I have worked with ESE children at my local church as a pre-k assistant and provided support to the patients and dedicated medical staff at Delray Medical Center. Cerebral palsy has been most vital in fostering my passions in genetics and medicine. I have had the opportunity to witness not only the intelligence and compassion of the medical profession, but also the strength and gratitude of patients and their families. This has led me on a life-long mission to advocate against the negative misinformation of the medical industry and restore the humanization of the people working behind it. As a high school senior at the College Academy at Broward College, I have undertaken rigorous courses that will allow me to graduate with my Associates of Arts with my high school diploma. Most recently, I have been admitted into the University of South Florida’s Biomedical Sciences program as a Presidential Scholar. After earning my bachelor's, I will decide my commitment to either genetics or pharmacy. But regardless of my choice, I intend to participate in research into advancements in biotechnology for under-represented medical disabilities. I am excited to begin this new part of my life and it would not have been possible without the resilience that my disability has instilled in me, along with the constant support from my family, doctors, and teachers. They have given me the mental strength to overcome my physical weakness and receiving the Joieful Connections Scholarship would allow me to show my appreciation towards those people and to carry on their legacies of love and acceptance to the future generations of people like me. Thank you for your consideration.