When it was time for me to get my meningitis shots, my doctor told me "Don't give up on being a doctor. We would have one less black doctor and one less female doctor." When I am asked the question, "What does being successful mean to you?" My answer is always the same. I want to be so successful that my name is easily searchable and Google makes no mistakes. For my medical career, I hope to have made a positive impact in so many individuals lives that they still remember me. I want to be a part of the small statistic of African Americans especially women who work in healthcare. It's important to increase racial diversity in healthcare so younger generations have a role model to look up to. Being raised in Prince George's county, I was surrounded by black doctors, engineers, lawyers, and so on. Every visit to the doctor's office I felt heard and seen. I never felt as my pain or feelings were minimized because of my skin, but instead it felt like I was being taken care of. When it was time for me to get my shots at the local CVS I was in awe of how many people looked like be behind the counter. Some were attending to customers, refilling prescriptions, or on the phone conversing with patients. Being raised in such a positive environment made me feel invincible and believe that I can do anything I put my mind to. Increasing racial diversity in healthcare lets all healthcare professionals advocate for their patients, community, and coworkers. In my medical career, I plan to not only help patients but make them feel seen, comfortable, and heard. Being in healthcare doesn't just mean curing patients but making sure they are at ease. When I achieve my goal of becoming a doctor, patients won't be just "patients" to me. Instead conversating with them, learning more about them instead of just seeing their condition/illness, and treating them as a human and not just someone who needs to be cured are all a part of my medical goals. In short, increasing racial diversity in healthcare creates a safe environment especially for minorities, continue to improve community health, and serve as role models for younger generations to look up to. As I continue to pursue my education to achieve my medical career I plan to care for my patients, community, and advocate for others who are afraid to do so for themselves.

Option 3: The relationships I have are similar to mosaic pieces that make up who I am. Every trait I have comes from the habits, values, and morals of those around me. My parents would always tell me to surround myself with the right friends so that I can be successful in life. Being friends with athletes who encouraged me to try a new sport, academic scholars who drive me to continue pushing towards my goals, and many other people who have somehow made the path to my future goals clearer. I have two friends whom I hold dearly in my heart. Before I met my first friend, I had not cared about school as much as she did. I knew my limits and would stop there instead of pushing further to break them. However, after spending time together, slowly her habit began to rub off on me, and we were essentially the same person in different forms. Applying to the same rigorous programs, taking hard courses together, and so much more. She opened many opportunities for me that I would have never known of if not for her striving and dedication. Because of her, I made the decision to go into healthcare. I have always wanted to, but the path I originally wanted to take, I believed it was too stressful for me, and I would not be able to achieve it. But she has shown me that hard work most definitely pays off, even in ways that I may not have expected. My second friend is a networking social butterfly. She is always her most outgoing self, and we somehow managed to click. I've always been shy and afraid to step out of my comfort zone, but because of her, doing the things I believed were hard came as easily and naturally as breathing. My second friend taught me the importance of branching out and putting yourself out there. I did not believe that I would ever be able to step out of my shell. Staying in places I know, talking to people that I am familiar with, and activities that involve me working alone are all I ever planned to do. It had been working for some time, but I knew that I would not be able to carry this plan out for the rest of my life. Thankfully, an energetic and bubbly girl who loves to chat is exactly who I needed in my life. Taking "social risks" and chances has never been on my agenda. I have always planned for the worst, just in case something happens, which has kept me from being sociable. But because of her, I am a chatterbox filled with knowledge and given opportunities that I would have never even considered before meeting her. Relationships ground me and help me know who I am. I have set many goals because of these two friends, who helped me realize that anything is possible if I put my mind to it. With my current goal of being a youth psychiatrist, something that seemed impossible is now just in my grasp if I continue to put in the hard work and skills that these girls have taught me over the years.

I used to believe that saying “I love you” was enough to let others know how I feel about them. My parents always told me they loved me, but when I said it back, it didn’t feel like love. After watching my first anime, ‘Madoka Magica,’ I realized Homura Akemi did not once tell Madoka she loved her–yet the sacrifices she made throughout the series demonstrated how much she truly loved her. Dying in each timeline to prevent her loved one from committing a fatal mistake redefined my version of ‘I love you’. Watching Homura’s dedication helped me realize that love is best shown through action, not words—a lesson I only fully understood when I experienced it myself. I first heard the phrase “actions speak louder than words” on the smiley-face posters scattered across my kindergarten classroom. However, I was unable to understand the concept at that moment. When I started to pack lunches for my friends, I learned that acts of service spoke volumes without saying a word. Over the summer, I mentored freshmen students for the upcoming school year, and once school had officially started, I had a few of them come up to me smiling, saying hi, and making conversation because they remembered me. I’ve sacrificed nights of sleep to create handmade gifts for my friends, staying up late to review homework with them, and even waking up in the middle of the night to be an ear to them. Helping my sister with homework reminds me that not all acts of love need to be grand. Bringing snacks and food to my friends' practice, baking treats for them and their siblings, is my way of loving. Showing up even when it’s not convenient for me, such as coming to support my friend's team while it's raining and recovering from a cold. Seeing smiles on others' faces because of my actions reminds me how simple gestures can make others feel cared for. I’ve come to understand that love and care are often expressed through consistent small acts that create meaningful change. Making cards for the homeless, organizing food drives, even serving as my sister’s assigned tutor—these acts, though they may seem small, leave a lasting impact. Love isn’t always verbal. It can be easily demonstrated through kind gestures, routines, or simply making others feel at ease. I want my form of love to extend into my future career; a child and adolescent psychiatrist. I hope to help others not just with words, but by creating a safe space where they can feel heard, seen, and supported. I’ve always had trouble speaking up and would rather sit at my desk for 45 minutes working on a long division problem than to ask for help. Being able to answer the teacher's phone, pass out papers, and do simple tasks for them made me feel seen and heard. Having them accommodate my needs by creating a safe environment for me pushes me to do the same for others. Words can’t always be said, but actions can always be done. The same way my actions are my form of love and care, I hope to make children and adolescents feel safe, seen, and heard. I’ve always had trouble with saying the words ‘I love you’, yet showing it is something I can do with ease. Through Homura, I've learned that love is not always spoken–it can be felt and seen by others. Guiding others, creating a comfortable environment, or even just being present is my definition of ‘I love you.’

I used to believe that saying “I love you” was enough to let others know how I feel about them. My parents always told me they loved me, but when I said it back, it didn’t feel like love. After watching my first anime, ‘Madoka Magica,’ I realized Homura Akemi did not once tell Madoka she loved her–yet the sacrifices she made throughout the series demonstrated how much she truly loved her. Dying in each timeline to prevent her loved one from committing a fatal mistake redefined my version of ‘I love you’. Watching Homura’s dedication helped me realize that love is best shown through action, not words—a lesson I only fully understood when I experienced it myself. I first heard the phrase “actions speak louder than words” on the smiley-face posters scattered across my kindergarten classroom. However, I was unable to understand the concept at that moment. When I started to pack lunches for my friends, I learned that acts of service spoke volumes without saying a word. Over the summer, I mentored freshmen students for the upcoming school year, and once school had officially started, I had a few of them come up to me smiling, saying hi, and making conversation because they remembered me. I’ve sacrificed nights of sleep to create handmade gifts for my friends, staying up late to review homework with them, and even waking up in the middle of the night to be an ear to them. Helping my sister with homework reminds me that not all acts of love need to be grand. Bringing snacks and food to my friends' practice, baking treats for them and their siblings, is my way of loving. Showing up even when it’s not convenient for me, such as coming to support my friend's team while it's raining and recovering from a cold. Seeing smiles on others' faces because of my actions reminds me how simple gestures can make others feel cared for. I’ve come to understand that love and care are often expressed through consistent small acts that create meaningful change. Making cards for the homeless, organizing food drives, even serving as my sister’s assigned tutor—these acts, though they may seem small, leave a lasting impact. Love isn’t always verbal. It can be easily demonstrated through kind gestures, routines, or simply making others feel at ease. I want my form of love to extend into my future career; a child and adolescent psychiatrist. I hope to help others not just with words, but by creating a safe space where they can feel heard, seen, and supported. I’ve always had trouble speaking up and would rather sit at my desk for 45 minutes working on a long division problem than to ask for help. Being able to answer the teacher's phone, pass out papers, and do simple tasks for them made me feel seen and heard. Having them accommodate my needs by creating a safe environment for me pushes me to do the same for others. Words can’t always be said, but actions can always be done. The same way my actions are my form of love and care, I hope to make children and adolescents feel safe, seen, and heard. I’ve always had trouble with saying the words ‘I love you’, yet showing it is something I can do with ease. Through Homura, I've learned that love is not always spoken–it can be felt and seen by others. Guiding others, creating a comfortable environment, or even just being present is my definition of ‘I love you.’

Growing up as a Nigerian immigrant in a predominantly black area, I was amazed by the amount of incredible people around me. In Maryland, especially in Prince George's County, numerous black individuals are in STEM. Being able to see how many people who are similar to me pursue careers in STEM is one of my biggest motivators. My parents, who immigrated here more than 10 years ago, are my inspiration. With both my mother and father working in cybersecurity, they have pushed me to explore STEM and witness all the amazing opportunities the field holds for me. I was sent to schools that always prioritized STEM, and from that point, I realized how much I enjoyed it. During my sophomore year of high school, I transferred to a new school within a specialty program called Science and Technology. My two older sisters also went through this same program, and I was amazed by the activities they did. Building houses and bridges out of popsicle sticks, conducting research experiments in their respective tracks, and so much more. Being in the Science and Technology program opened doors to numerous opportunities for me. I built levees out of sponges, dirt, and sand, analyzed bacteria under microscopes, observed the anatomy of humans and evaluated their uses, did social experiments during my AP Psychology class, and so much more. The Science and Technology program has definitely encouraged me to pursue an education in STEM. Classes such as microbiology, anatomy and physiology, Architect Graphics, AP Computer Science Principles, Organic Chemistry, Engineering Foundations, Genetics, and so much more. When I go to my pharmacy, I am met with pharmacists who look like me, come from the same background, and overall someone who is similar to me. When I tell my main pharmacist my plans and goals, he is always encouraging me not to give up. He would tell me, "one less doctor", "one less Nigerian woman in health care," to encourage me to continue to pursue my goals. I have a love for STEM that can't fully be described in words. I want my form of love to extend into my future career as a child and adolescent psychiatrist. I hope to help others not just with words, but by creating a safe space where they can feel heard, seen, and supported. I’ve always had trouble speaking up and would rather sit at my desk for 45 minutes working on a long division problem than to ask for help. Being able to answer the teacher's phone, pass out papers, and do simple tasks for them made me feel seen and heard. Having them accommodate my needs by creating a safe environment for me pushes me to do the same for others. Words can’t always be said, but actions can always be done. The same way my actions are my form of love and care, I hope to make children and adolescents feel safe, seen, and heard. I’ve always had trouble with saying the words ‘I love you’, yet showing it is something I can do with ease.

After watching my first anime, ‘Madoka Magica,’ I realized Homura Akemi did not once tell Madoka she loved her–yet the sacrifices she made throughout the series demonstrated how much she truly loved her. Dying in each timeline to prevent her loved one from committing a fatal mistake redefined my version of ‘I love you’. Watching Homura’s dedication helped me realize that love is best shown through action, not words—a lesson I only fully understood when I experienced it myself. I first heard the phrase “actions speak louder than words” on the smiley-face posters scattered across my kindergarten classroom. However, I was unable to understand the concept at that moment. When I started to pack lunches for my friends, I learned that acts of service spoke volumes without saying a word. Over the summer, I mentored freshmen students for the upcoming school year, and once school had officially started, I had a few of them come up to me smiling, saying hi, and making conversation because they remembered me. I’ve sacrificed nights of sleep to create handmade gifts for my friends, staying up late to review homework with them, and even waking up in the middle of the night to be an ear to them. Helping my sister with homework reminds me that not all acts of love need to be grand. Bringing snacks and food to my friends' practice, baking treats for them and their siblings, is my way of loving. Showing up even when it’s not convenient for me, such as coming to support my friend's team while it's raining and recovering from a cold. Seeing smiles on others' faces because of my actions reminds me how simple gestures can make others feel cared for. I’ve come to understand that love and care are often expressed through consistent small acts that create meaningful change. Making cards for the homeless, organizing food drives, even serving as my sister’s assigned tutor—these acts, though they may seem small, leave a lasting impact. Love isn’t always verbal. It can be easily demonstrated through kind gestures, routines, or simply making others feel at ease. I want my form of love to extend into my future career; a child and adolescent psychiatrist. I hope to help others not just with words, but by creating a safe space where they can feel heard, seen, and supported. I’ve always had trouble speaking up and would rather sit at my desk for 45 minutes working on a long division problem than to ask for help. Being able to answer the teacher's phone, pass out papers, and do simple tasks for them made me feel seen and heard. Having them accommodate my needs by creating a safe environment for me pushes me to do the same for others. Words can’t always be said, but actions can always be done. The same way my actions are my form of love and care, I hope to make children and adolescents feel safe, seen, and heard. I’ve always had trouble with saying the words ‘I love you’, yet showing it is something I can do with ease. Through Homura, I've learned that love is not always spoken–it can be felt and seen by others. Guiding others, creating a comfortable environment, or even just being present is my definition of ‘I love you.’ Receiving this scholarship encourages me to push towards my career goal, which is to create a safe space for young adults and children in a world where they are typically ignored when it comes to mental health.

After watching my first anime, ‘Madoka Magica,’ I realized Homura Akemi did not once tell Madoka she loved her–yet the sacrifices she made throughout the series demonstrated how much she truly loved her. Dying in each timeline to prevent her loved one from committing a fatal mistake redefined my version of ‘I love you’. Watching Homura’s dedication helped me realize that love is best shown through action, not words—a lesson I only fully understood when I experienced it myself. I first heard the phrase “actions speak louder than words” on the smiley-face posters scattered across my kindergarten classroom. However, I was unable to understand the concept at that moment. When I started to pack lunches for my friends, I learned that acts of service spoke volumes without saying a word. Over the summer, I mentored freshmen students for the upcoming school year, and once school had officially started, I had a few of them come up to me smiling, saying hi, and making conversation because they remembered me. I’ve sacrificed nights of sleep to create handmade gifts for my friends, staying up late to review homework with them, and even waking up in the middle of the night to be an ear to them. Helping my sister with homework reminds me that not all acts of love need to be grand. Bringing snacks and food to my friends' practice, baking treats for them and their siblings, is my way of loving. Showing up even when it’s not convenient for me, such as coming to support my friend's team while it's raining and recovering from a cold. Seeing smiles on others' faces because of my actions reminds me how simple gestures can make others feel cared for. I’ve come to understand that love and care are often expressed through consistent small acts that create meaningful change. Making cards for the homeless, organizing food drives, even serving as my sister’s assigned tutor—these acts, though they may seem small, leave a lasting impact. Love isn’t always verbal. It can be easily demonstrated through kind gestures, routines, or simply making others feel at ease. I want my form of love to extend into my future career as a child and adolescent psychiatrist. I hope to help others not just with words, but by creating a safe space where they can feel heard, seen, and supported. I’ve always had trouble speaking up and would rather sit at my desk for 45 minutes working on a long division problem than ask for help. Being able to answer the teacher's phone, pass out papers, and do simple tasks for them made me feel seen and heard. Having them accommodate my needs by creating a safe environment for me pushes me to do the same for others. Words can’t always be said, but actions can always be done. In the same way my actions are my form of love and care, I hope to make children and adolescents feel safe, seen, and heard. I’ve always had trouble with saying the words ‘I love you’, yet showing it is something I can do with ease. Through Homura, I've learned that love is not always spoken–it can be felt and seen by others. Guiding others, creating a comfortable environment, or even just being present is my definition of ‘I love you.’