As an 18-year-old first-generation Ghanaian-American, my family's journey to the United States has been nothing short of extraordinary. My parents made the difficult decision to leave Ghana in search of stability and a better future for my sister and me. They believed that America held endless opportunities, and they were determined to provide us with a life they could only dream of back home. However, our journey was not without its challenges. One of the most significant hurdles we faced was during my birth. Unfortunately, my father was unable to be present in the operation room because he was stuck in Ghana, waiting for his citizenship to be approved. It was a bittersweet moment when I came into this world, as it was only my mother and my grandfather who stood by her side in New Jersey. It wasn't until the following year that I finally got to see my father when we traveled to Ghana. That reunion was incredibly emotional, and I can still vividly recall the overwhelming joy that filled our hearts as we embraced each other. From that moment forward, I knew that our family's sacrifice and determination were worth it. Growing up in the United States initially forced me to adapt to a new culture. As a young child, I immersed myself in American customs and traditions, so much so that I almost forgot the beauty of my Ghanaian heritage. It wasn't until I reached my teenage years that I realized how crucial it was to reconnect with my roots and embrace my cultural identity. Relearning my native tongue, Twi, has been a pivotal part of this journey. Through studying the language, I have discovered a profound appreciation for my heritage. Each word I learn allows me to delve deeper into my Ghanaian roots and connect with my family's history in a meaningful way. It has been a journey of rediscovery, and I've fallen back in love with the richness and vibrancy of my culture. In my academic journey, my heritage has played a significant role. It has taught me resilience, perseverance, and the value of hard work. Understanding my family's sacrifices and the opportunities that education brings, I've approached my studies with determination and a desire to make them proud. My heritage has given me a unique perspective, enabling me to appreciate the value of education in creating a better future for myself and my community. Being involved with my school's African Student Association has been instrumental in my growth and cultural exploration. It has allowed me to share my Ghanaian culture with others while learning about the diverse backgrounds and traditions of my fellow African peers. Together, we celebrate our heritage, share our stories, and foster a sense of unity and pride. In conclusion, my family's journey to the United States has shaped my life in profound ways. The challenges we faced and the sacrifices made have instilled in me a deep appreciation for my heritage. Reconnecting with my Ghanaian roots, learning my native language, and sharing my culture through the African Student Association have all enriched my academic journey. Through it all, I've learned that my heritage is not just a part of who I am, but a source of strength, resilience, and endless possibilities.

As an 18-year-old first-generation Ghanaian-American, my family's journey to the United States has been extraordinary. My parents left Ghana for a better future, seeking stability and opportunities for my sister and me. During my birth, my father couldn't be in the operating room as he awaited his citizenship approval. Only my mother and grandfather were present in New Jersey, making it a bittersweet moment. The following year, we reunited with my father in Ghana, an incredibly emotional experience that affirmed the worthiness of our family's sacrifice. Growing up in the United States, I initially immersed myself in American culture, almost forgetting the beauty of my Ghanaian heritage. However, as a teenager, I realized the importance of reconnecting with my roots and embracing my cultural identity. Relearning my native tongue, Twi, has played a pivotal role in this journey, deepening my appreciation for my heritage and connecting me with my family's history. My heritage has significantly influenced my academic journey, teaching me resilience, perseverance, and the value of education. Understanding my family's sacrifices, I approach my studies with determination, aiming to make them proud. Being part of my school's African Student Association has been instrumental in my cultural exploration. It allows me to share my Ghanaian culture while learning about the diverse backgrounds of my African peers, fostering unity and celebration. In conclusion, my family's journey to the United States has profoundly shaped my life. Rediscovering my Ghanaian roots, relearning my native language, and participating in the African Student Association have enriched my academic journey. My heritage is not just a part of me; it is a source of strength, resilience, and endless possibilities.

As a first-generation Ghanaian American, I have been shaped by my unique background, experiences, and aspirations. I come from a close-knit family, with two younger sisters named Yaa and Victoria. Yaa, my middle sister, has autism, which has further fueled my passion for healthcare and my commitment to bridging the diversity gap in the field. Growing up in Nashville, Tennessee, I witnessed firsthand the disparities and challenges faced by communities of color in accessing quality healthcare. This inequity deeply impacted me and instilled a strong desire to bring about positive change. Inspired by my personal experiences and driven by the need to address the underrepresentation of minorities in healthcare, I have chosen to pursue a career in the medical field. While exploring various avenues within healthcare, I have discovered my passion for patient care and advocacy. Witnessing the devastating consequences of health disparities within the African community, such as my uncle's tragic death due to complications from diabetes, I am committed to bringing comforting education and bridging the gap between communities of color and the healthcare system. I aspire to become a physician, specifically focusing on primary care and community outreach. I want to provide culturally sensitive care and create a safe and inclusive environment where individuals from marginalized communities feel heard, respected, and empowered to make informed healthcare decisions. My goal is to bridge the gap between healthcare providers and underserved communities, by addressing the lack of trust that exists due to historical and cultural barriers. Through my own experiences as a first-generation Ghanaian American, I understand the importance of cultural competence and providing healthcare that is sensitive to diverse backgrounds and beliefs. I aim to contribute to a more inclusive healthcare system by advocating for health equity, raising awareness about preventive care, and promoting early intervention in communities of color. Moreover, my sister Yaa's journey with autism has deepened my understanding of the unique challenges faced by individuals with developmental disabilities. I want to be an advocate for those with autism and other special needs, ensuring that they receive the necessary care and support to lead fulfilling lives. By working closely with multidisciplinary teams and engaging in research, I hope to contribute to advancements in the field of autism care and enhance the quality of life for individuals like Yaa. In conclusion, my personal experiences as a first-generation Ghanaian American, witnessing the diversity gap in healthcare, and the impact of chronic illnesses within my own community have shaped my aspirations in the medical field. I am dedicated to pursuing a career in healthcare, specifically as a physician, to bridge the gap in healthcare access and provide culturally sensitive care. My journey is fueled by a desire to advocate for underrepresented communities, address health disparities, and ensure that individuals of color receive the care they deserve. With your support through this scholarship, I will have the opportunity to continue my education, contribute to positive change in healthcare, and make a lasting impact on the lives of those who need it most.

Volunteering has transformed my mindset by instilling a deep sense of compassion, empathy, and gratitude. Through my experiences at Knox Fish Pantry, I have witnessed the challenges faced by individuals experiencing food insecurity. Interacting with them and understanding their stories has created a profound empathy within me. It has made me realize the importance of lending a helping hand and has heightened my awareness of the realities faced by marginalized communities. Similarly, volunteering at the Nashville Rescue Mission has opened my eyes to the issue of homelessness. Engaging with individuals in need and listening to their stories has shattered stereotypes and humanized the struggles they face. Witnessing their resilience and determination has instilled a deep sense of compassion within me, igniting a passion to create positive change and support those in need. Amid the COVID-19 pandemic, I joined the Church of Pentecost Tennessee District COVID-19 Response Team. This experience has been transformative, as I witnessed firsthand the devastating impact of the pandemic on vulnerable communities. Through various initiatives such as distributing essential supplies, providing educational resources, and offering emotional support, I have seen the power of collective action and community resilience. Volunteering during this challenging time has reinforced the importance of unity, compassion, and mutual support in times of crisis. Additionally, participating in the Black Issues Conference has provided me with a platform to address systemic issues affecting marginalized communities. Engaging in discussions surrounding social justice, racial equity, and economic disparities has deepened my understanding of the structural barriers faced by individuals of color. This experience has fueled my determination to advocate for equitable opportunities, challenge injustice, and work towards a more inclusive society. However, as a volunteer, the financial implications cannot be overlooked. Volunteering often involves dedicating significant time and resources without monetary compensation. While the experiences and personal growth derived from volunteering are invaluable, they can also impact my ability to work a paid job and contribute to my college expenses. Moreover, nursing, the profession my mother is in, is a demanding field that requires ongoing education, certifications, and professional development. The financial responsibilities associated with these requirements, combined with the costs of daily living, further strain our financial situation. Receiving a scholarship would be instrumental in alleviating the financial burden on my family and me. It would provide a valuable opportunity to pursue my academic goals, contribute more deeply to my community through volunteering, and enhance my potential for future success. Financial assistance would enable me to dedicate more time to volunteer initiatives, expanding my impact and fostering positive change within my community. In conclusion, volunteering has fundamentally shaped my mindset, fostering empathy, compassion, and a commitment to social justice. However, the financial strain resulting from limited employment opportunities and the demands of nursing has created a need for financial assistance. By receiving a scholarship, I can continue my volunteer efforts, focus on my studies, and work towards my goal of making a positive difference in the lives of those in need. Your support would not only help me achieve my educational aspirations but also empower me to create lasting change and contribute meaningfully to society.

Growing up as a first-generation Ghanaian, I faced financial challenges and had to take a loan for my first year of college. Recognizing the importance of financial literacy, I am determined to ensure my younger sisters, Yaa and Victoria, don't have to face the same hurdles. To make a positive impact, I have developed a comprehensive plan to educate our community about financial literacy. By sharing my personal journey and implementing various strategies, I aim to equip individuals with the knowledge and skills to make informed financial decisions. This essay outlines my approach to empowering our community through financial education. Having experienced the hardships associated with limited knowledge about money and saving, I understand the significance of personal growth in financial literacy. I am committed to enhancing my own understanding through reading books, attending seminars, and taking online courses. By continually learning, I can provide relatable advice and share my experiences of managing money in the face of challenges. To spark interest and create awareness, I will engage in conversations within our community. Whether it's during family gatherings, social events, or local community meetings, I will openly share my own financial journey. By discussing the benefits of financial literacy and the potential pitfalls of poor money management, I hope to encourage dialogue and engage others in the topic. Recognizing the wealth of resources available within our local community, I plan to collaborate with the Finance Department at the University of Tennessee Knoxville. By reaching out to faculty members and financial experts at the university, I can tap into their knowledge and expertise. Through this partnership, we can organize specialized workshops and seminars, inviting professors and professionals to share their insights on financial literacy. This collaboration will ensure that our community receives accurate and up-to-date information tailored to our unique circumstances. To delve deeper into financial literacy education, I will organize workshops and seminars in collaboration with the University of Tennessee Knoxville's Finance Department. These events will be tailored to our community's needs and held in accessible venues like community centers, schools, and local libraries. By inviting experts from the university, we can provide participants with valuable insights on budgeting, saving, and debt management. The workshops will not only offer theoretical knowledge but also practical advice and strategies for financial success. In today's digital age, I will leverage social media platforms, blogs, and YouTube channels to extend the reach of financial literacy education. By creating engaging and relatable content, such as videos, articles, and infographics, I can cater to different age groups and cover a range of financial topics. Through these platforms, individuals can access valuable resources and learn at their own pace. I will also collaborate with the University of Tennessee Knoxville's Finance Department to create and promote digital content that complements our workshops and seminars. By sharing relatable experiences, engaging in open conversations, organizing workshops and seminars in partnership with the University of Tennessee Knoxville's Finance Department, utilizing digital platforms, and establishing mentorship programs and savings clubs, I am determined to empower our community with the tools and knowledge needed for financial success. Together, we can break the cycle of financial struggles and ensure that future generations, like Yaa and Victoria, have the resources and understanding to navigate their financial journeys with confidence.

Taylor Swift's '1989' album holds a special place in the hearts of Swifties around the world, captivating listeners with its infectious pop hooks, honest lyrics, and unwavering spirit. Among the album's many gems, my favorite song is undoubtedly "Shake It Off," a dynamic anthem that not only showcases Swift's growth as an artist but also embodies the essence of women empowerment. From the moment the upbeat rhythm and lively melody kick in, "Shake It Off" immediately commands attention. It serves as a triumphant declaration, urging listeners to let go of societal expectations, stereotypes, and negative opinions. Swift's infectious enthusiasm and spirited vocals effortlessly draw you in, igniting a sense of liberation and resilience within. Through her clever wordplay and use of mnemonic devices, Swift artfully weaves her empowering message. Lines like "Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play, and the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate" encapsulate the idea that no matter what challenges come our way, we have the power to rise above them. The playful repetition not only makes the song catchy but also drives home the notion of dismissing criticism and embracing self-confidence. Beyond its catchy hooks and memorable lyrics, "Shake It Off" resonates deeply with me because it celebrates individuality and encourages self-acceptance. In a world that often tries to confine women to predetermined boxes, Swift reminds us to embrace our unique qualities, passions, and dreams without fear of judgment. It serves as a reminder that we have the agency to define ourselves on our own terms. Furthermore, "Shake It Off" inspires a sense of unity and camaraderie among fans, affectionately known as Swifties. The song has become an anthem of resilience and solidarity, bringing together people from diverse backgrounds who find solace and strength in Swift's empowering music. The song's infectious energy creates a shared experience, fostering a community of support and celebration. Personally, "Shake It Off" has been a source of inspiration during challenging times. It has reminded me to rise above negativity, embrace my authentic self, and pursue my dreams unapologetically. Swift's music has always held a special place in my heart, and this song, in particular, continues to resonate with me as a reminder of the power we possess to shape our own narratives. In conclusion, my favorite song on Taylor Swift's '1989' album is "Shake It Off." Its vibrant energy, empowering lyrics, and memorable hooks make it an anthem for women empowerment and self-acceptance. Swift's ability to create music that not only resonates with her fans but also empowers them is a testament to her artistry and the positive impact she has on her audience. Through this song, I am reminded to embrace my individuality, stand tall against societal expectations, and confidently shake off any obstacles that come my way.

MY dream future self is a highly skilled and compassionate pediatric neurologist who positively impacts the lives of children by providing expert care and helping them achieve their fullest potential.

What makes me a leader? As an 18-year-old college sophomore, I've had the opportunity to cultivate my leadership skills through various experiences and responsibilities in my personal and academic life. While I recognize that leadership takes many forms and evolves over time, I believe there are several qualities and experiences that make me a leader. First and foremost, being the oldest of three girls in a Ghanaian-American household has inherently placed me in a position of leadership and responsibility. With my parents working tirelessly to establish the structure they never had, I've learned to take initiative and lead by example, guiding my younger sisters through life's challenges and serving as a role model for them. Additionally, one of my sisters, Yaa, has autism and is non-verbal. Yaa has taught me invaluable lessons about compassion, empathy, and advocacy. I've developed a deep sense of responsibility to ensure that her voice is heard and her needs are met. This experience has shaped my understanding of inclusivity and the importance of supporting and empowering individuals who may face unique obstacles. Outside of my family, my role as the captain of a top-ranking soccer team in high school allowed me to hone my leadership skills on the field. Leading by example, motivating my teammates, and fostering a collaborative and supportive environment were integral to our success as a team. Through this experience, I learned the importance of effective communication, adaptability, and resilience in the face of adversity. Furthermore, serving as the Vice President of my school's first National Society of Black Women in Medicine(NSBWM) is another testament to my leadership abilities. In this role, I have the privilege of inspiring and uplifting other aspiring Black women in medicine, fostering a sense of community, and advocating for their success. I believe that leadership involves not only personal growth but also the ability to empower and uplift others to reach their full potential. Overall, what sets me apart as a leader is my passion for leading with purpose and making a positive impact on the lives of others. I strive to be a compassionate listener, a problem-solver, and a source of inspiration for those around me. I am driven by a desire to create positive change, challenge the status quo, and foster an inclusive and supportive environment for everyone I encounter. While I continue to learn and grow as a leader, I am grateful for the diverse experiences and opportunities that have shaped my leadership journey thus far. I am excited to continue embracing new challenges, expanding my knowledge, and working collaboratively with others to make a difference in the world.

Growing up in an African home, a healthcare-related occupation was always encouraged, but it was plain to see that there was an obvious distrust of it. In particular, the older members of my family would often rather use homemade remedies, rather than seek professional help. This way of living was planted from a young age and grew up with them throughout their lives. In all honesty, I never saw a real issue with this. Never saw an issue when my grandma used a VapoRub substitute for a cold that lasted 5 weeks. Never saw an issue when my aunt was using imported blood pressure pills. Never saw an issue, until my uncle died from an untreated leg infection caused by his underlying diabetes. His death was painful and cut deep. We questioned ourselves, why didn’t we get him help? Internally, I questioned him. There were hospitals all over our city that could’ve gotten him an antibiotic or some type of treatment. After the funeral, my mom finally let me see a picture and I was mortified. The skin on his leg was withering away, almost as if he had been badly burned. I was petrified but at the same time could not look away. My uncle's death is one of many examples of fear and distrust in the healthcare field taking the ultimate toll. No other family should feel the pain and suffering our family felt at the hands of skepticism. Building trust starts early and from a young age, I was fortunate enough to be comfortable with my doctors and health personnel in general. In fact was so inspired, I knew one day I wanted to be a pediatric physician myself. Pediatrics is a field that requires focus in the psychology of children alongside the physician aspect. Making sure a child is comfortable enough to actually tell you what is going on in their body is one of the top priorities and it builds that trust that is sometimes lost. Then there is the longing for relatability. For example, my childhood doctor was a middle-aged white man, a perfect description for the exact opposite of me. I trusted him, but never identified with him. An increase of racial diversity in healthcare would stop many children from falling victim to my uncle’s fate and in my pursuit of a pediatric physician occupation, I aim to prevent that in any way I can. Being a person of color, and a woman at that, I have the ability to pull a population of adolescents that other people many not be accustomed to. With the help of this scholarship, I can build the foundation that one patient at a time can increase the rate of representation.

Growing up in an African home, a healthcare-related occupation was always encouraged, but it was plain to see that there was an obvious distrust of it. In particular, the older members of my family would often rather use homemade remedies, rather than seek professional help. This way of living was planted from a young age and grew up with them throughout their lives. In all honesty, I never saw a real issue with this. Never saw an issue when my grandma used a VapoRub substitute for a cold that lasted 5 weeks. Never saw an issue when my aunt was using imported blood pressure pills. Never saw an issue, until my uncle died from an untreated leg infection caused by his underlying diabetes. His death was painful and cut deep. We questioned ourselves, why didn’t we get him help? Internally, I questioned him. There were hospitals all over our city that could’ve gotten him an antibiotic or some type of treatment. After the funeral, my mom finally let me see a picture and I was mortified. The skin on his leg was withering away, almost as if he had been badly burned. I was petrified but at the same time could not look away. My uncle's death is one of many examples of fear and distrust in the healthcare field taking the ultimate toll. No other family should feel the pain and suffering our family felt at the hands of skepticism. Building trust starts early and from a young age, I was fortunate enough to be comfortable with my doctors and health personnel in general. In fact was so inspired, I knew one day I wanted to be a pediatric physician myself. Pediatrics is a field that requires focus in the psychology of children alongside the physician aspect. Making sure a child is comfortable enough to actually tell you what is going on in their body is one of the top priorities and it builds that trust that is sometimes lost. Then there is the longing for relatability. For example, my childhood doctor was a middle-aged white man, a perfect description for the exact opposite of me. I trusted him, but never identified with him. An increase of racial diversity in healthcare would stop many children from falling victim to my uncle’s fate and in my pursuit of a pediatric physician occupation, I aim to prevent that in any way I can. Being a person of color, and a woman at that, I have the ability to pull a population of adolescents that other people many not be accustomed to. With the help of this scholarship, I can build the foundation that one patient at a time can increase the rate of representation.

2020. Many hear this year and automatically think of the virus that ravaged our nation. I, however, look at this year, its four numbers, and just try to forget it. Growing up in an African home, a healthcare-related occupation was always encouraged, but it was plain to see that there was an obvious distrust of it. In particular, the older members of my family would often rather use homemade remedies, rather than seek professional help. This way of living was planted from a young age and grew up with them throughout their lives. In all honesty, I never saw a real issue with this. Never saw an issue when my grandma used a VapoRub substitute for a cold that lasted 5 weeks. Never saw an issue when my aunt was using imported blood pressure pills. Never saw an issue, until my uncle died from an untreated leg infection caused by his underlying diabetes. His death was painful and cut deep. We questioned ourselves, why didn’t we get him help? Internally, I questioned him. There were hospitals all over our city that could’ve gotten him an antibiotic or some type of treatment. After the funeral, my mom finally let me see a picture and I was mortified. The skin on his leg was withering away, almost as if he had been in a fire and had been badly burned. I was petrified but at the same time could not look away. My uncle's death is one of many examples of fear and distrust in the healthcare field taking the ultimate toll. No other family should feel the pain and suffering our family felt at the hands of skepticism. Building trust starts early and from a young age, I was fortunate enough to be comfortable with my doctors and health personnel in general. In fact was so inspired, I knew one day I wanted to be a pediatric physician myself. Pediatrics is a field that requires focus in the psychology of children alongside the physician aspect. Making sure a child is comfortable enough to actually tell you what is going on in their body is one of the top priorities and it builds that trust that is sometimes lost. Then there is the longing for relatability. For example, my childhood doctor was a middle-aged white man, a perfect description for the exact opposite of me. I trusted him, but never identified with him. An increase of racial diversity in healthcare would stop many children from falling victim to my uncle’s fate and in my pursuit of a pediatric physician occupation, I aim to prevent that in any way I can. Being a person of color, and a woman at that, I have the ability to pull a population of adolescents that other people many not be accustomed to. As a female person of color, I believe I have a duty, a responsibility to pave a way for the generation behind me. Due to COVID, I was not able to fully get into community service the way I wanted to, but as a youth representative for my church, I was able to help set up a couple zooms to let female doctors talk to the youth in our church. From that conversation, many of them said they felt more understanding and comfortable with doctors, contrary to the beliefs they saw around them, which is one step to my ultimate goal. With the help of this scholarship, I can build the foundation that one patient at a time can increase the rate of representation and help provide that familiar face everyone receiving healthcare deserves.

Science, technology, engineering, and math. Four words that are "not made" for people like me, a first-generation, Ghanaian- American female. Four words that ironically were also the name of my middle school which highlighted these career paths for the underrepresented and it was at STEM Preparatory Middle school that I decided I would become a Pediatric Physician and excel. I had done everything perfectly. I had taken an excess of science classes, joined clubs, done projects, alongside other recources. I thought I was prepared until one year. 2020. Many hear this year and automatically think of the virus that ravaged our nation. I, however, look at this year, its four numbers, and just try to forget it. Growing up in an African home, a healthcare-related occupation was always encouraged, but it was plain to see that there was an obvious distrust of it. In particular, the older members of my family would often rather use homemade remedies, rather than seek professional help. This way of living was planted from a young age and grew up with them throughout their lives. In all honesty, I never saw a real issue with this. Never saw an issue when my grandma used a VapoRub substitute for a cold that lasted 5 weeks. Never saw an issue when my aunt was using imported blood pressure pills. Never saw an issue, until my uncle died from an untreated leg infection caused by his underlying diabetes. His death was painful and cut deep. We questioned ourselves, why didn’t we get him help? Internally, I questioned him. There were hospitals all over our city that could’ve gotten him an antibiotic or some type of treatment. After the funeral, my mom finally let me see a picture and I was mortified. The skin on his leg was withering away, almost as if he had been badly burned. I was petrified but at the same time could not look away. My uncle's death is one of many examples of fear and distrust in the healthcare field taking the ultimate toll. No other family should feel the pain and suffering our family felt at the hands of skepticism. Building trust starts early and from a young age, I was fortunate enough to be comfortable with my doctors and health personnel in general. In fact was so inspired, I knew one day I wanted to be a pediatric physician myself. Pediatrics is a field that requires focus in the psychology of children alongside the physician aspect. Making sure a child is comfortable enough to actually tell you what is going on in their body is one of the top priorities and it builds that trust that is sometimes lost. Then there is the longing for relatability. For example, my childhood doctor was a middle-aged white man, a perfect description for the exact opposite of me. I trusted him, but never identified with him. An increase of racial diversity in healthcare would stop many children from falling victim to my uncle’s fate and in my pursuit of a pediatric physician occupation, I aim to prevent that in any way I can. Being a person of color, and a woman at that, I have the ability to pull a population of adolescents that other people many not be accustomed to. With the help of this scholarship, I can build the foundation that one patient at a time can increase the rate of representation

2020. Many hear this year and automatically think of the virus that ravaged our nation. I, however, look at this year, its four numbers, and just try to forget it. Growing up in an African home, a healthcare-related occupation was always encouraged, but it was plain to see that there was an obvious distrust of it. In particular, the older members of my family would often rather use homemade remedies, rather than seek professional help. This way of living was planted from a young age and grew up with them throughout their lives. In all honesty, I never saw a real issue with this. Never saw an issue when my grandma used a VapoRub substitute for a cold that lasted 5 weeks. Never saw an issue when my aunt was using imported blood pressure pills. Never saw an issue, until my uncle died from an untreated leg infection caused by his underlying diabetes. His death was painful and cut deep. We questioned ourselves, why didn’t we get him help? Internally, I questioned him. There were hospitals all over our city that could’ve gotten him an antibiotic or some type of treatment. After the funeral, my mom finally let me see a picture and I was mortified. The skin on his leg was withering away, almost as if he had been badly burned. I was petrified but at the same time could not look away. My uncle's death is one of many examples of fear and distrust in the healthcare field taking the ultimate toll. No other family should feel the pain and suffering our family felt at the hands of skepticism. Building trust starts early and from a young age, I was fortunate enough to be comfortable with my doctors and health personnel in general. In fact was so inspired, I knew one day I wanted to be a pediatric physician myself. Pediatrics is a field that requires focus in the psychology of children alongside the physician aspect. Making sure a child is comfortable enough to actually tell you what is going on in their body is one of the top priorities and it builds that trust that is sometimes lost. Then there is the longing for relatability. For example, my childhood doctor was a middle-aged white man, a perfect description for the exact opposite of me. I trusted him, but never identified with him. An increase of racial diversity in healthcare would stop many children from falling victim to my uncle’s fate and in my pursuit of a pediatric physician occupation, I aim to prevent that in any way I can. Being a person of color, and a woman at that, I have the ability to pull a population of adolescents that other people many not be accustomed to. With the help of this scholarship, I can build the foundation that one patient at a time can increase the rate of representation

Growing up in an African home, a healthcare-related occupation was always encouraged, but it was plain to see that there was an obvious distrust of it. In particular, the older members of my family would often rather use homemade remedies, rather than seek professional help. This way of living was planted from a young age and grew up with them throughout their lives. In all honesty, I never saw a real issue with this. Never saw an issue when my grandma used a VapoRub substitute for a cold that lasted 5 weeks. Never saw an issue when my aunt was using imported blood pressure pills. Never saw an issue, until my uncle died from an untreated leg infection caused by his underlying diabetes. His death was painful and cut deep. We questioned ourselves, why didn’t we get him help? Internally, I questioned him. There were hospitals all over our city that could’ve gotten him an antibiotic or some type of treatment. After the funeral, my mom finally let me see a picture and I was mortified. The skin on his leg was withering away, almost as if he had been badly burned. I was petrified but at the same time could not look away. My uncle's death is one of many examples of fear and distrust in the healthcare field taking the ultimate toll. No other family should feel the pain and suffering our family felt at the hands of skepticism. Building trust starts early and from a young age, I was fortunate enough to be comfortable with my doctors and health personnel in general. In fact was so inspired, I knew one day I wanted to be a pediatric physician myself. Pediatrics is a field that requires focus in the psychology of children alongside the physician aspect. Making sure a child is comfortable enough to actually tell you what is going on in their body is one of the top priorities and it builds that trust that is sometimes lost. Then there is the longing for relatability. For example, my childhood doctor was a middle-aged white man, a perfect description for the exact opposite of me. I trusted him, but never identified with him. An increase of racial diversity in healthcare would stop many children from falling victim to my uncle’s fate and in my pursuit of a pediatric physician occupation, I aim to prevent that in any way I can. Being a person of color, and a woman at that, I have the ability to pull a population of adolescents that other people many not be accustomed to. With the help of this scholarship, I can build the foundation that one patient at a time can increase the rate of representation

r t 3:00 AM Central Standard Time or (for my father) the wake-up call for the Stock Marketpretrading. My dad always emphasized the importance of this time. Time is something we all wish we had more of, but in the world of investing, it always seems to run out. One investing tip my dad taught me is to take risks and maximize that ever-dwindling time. As the eldest of three girls, I always understood that almost everything I did was going to be a first. First 16th birthday, first prom, and most importantly first high school graduation. College searching has not been easy and financing has always been an important factor. And in that factor comes a fairly new way to see a return on money is investing. I am lucky enough to have parents that started investing in my name early, but one thing I always hear is "if only." If only we had taken XYZ's plan earlier. If only we had done this or that. My parent's verbal regrets have often pushed me to try and engage in any reasonable chances in my finances. One memorable time that came to mind was a raffle I had at work, where everyone put in 5% of their check and the winner would receive double. Though I was nervous and thought I should have kept my small 5%, I ceded and decided to go ahead and won the raffle! This taught me to believe in my chances rather than going in depleted and I have since always kept that with me wherever I go.

First-Generation American. These three words have basically defined for almost all my life. As a Ghanaian-American, I have always been conscious of both my cultures. The rich West African dances clothes and food and the American melting pot I was now apart of. These were two complete different world I lived in, but one thing remained the same: the morals. Both cultures highlighted the importance of helping your neighbor and more importantly strangers. I decided that this one similar aspect would drive my career. I decided that I would become a doctor, a big feat. Another major factor in this decision was one huge year. 2020. Many hear this year and automatically think of the virus that ravaged our nation. I, however, look at this year, its four numbers, and just try to forget it. Growing up in an African home, a healthcare-related occupation was always encouraged, but it was plain to see that there was an obvious distrust of it. In particular, the older members of my family would often rather use homemade remedies, rather than seek professional help. This way of living was planted from a young age and grew up with them throughout their lives. In all honesty, I never saw a real issue with this. Never saw an issue when my grandma used a VapoRub substitute for a cold that lasted 5 weeks. Never saw an issue when my aunt was using imported blood pressure pills. Never saw an issue, until my uncle died from an untreated leg infection caused by his underlying diabetes. His death was painful and cut deep. We questioned ourselves, why didn’t we get him help? Internally, I questioned him. There were hospitals all over our city that could’ve gotten him an antibiotic or some type of treatment. After the funeral, my mom finally let me see a picture and I was mortified. The skin on his leg was withering away, almost as if he had been badly burned. I was petrified but at the same time could not look away. My uncle's death is one of many examples of fear and distrust in the healthcare field taking the ultimate toll. No other family should feel the pain and suffering our family felt at the hands of skepticism. Building trust starts early and from a young age, I was fortunate enough to be comfortable with my doctors and health personnel in general. Was so inspired, that I knew one day I wanted to be a pediatric physician myself. Pediatrics is a field that requires a focus on the psychology of children alongside the physician aspect. Making sure a child is comfortable enough to tell you what is going on in their body is one of the top priorities and it builds that trust that is sometimes lost. Then there is the longing for relatability. For example, my childhood doctor was a middle-aged white man, a perfect description for the exact opposite of me. I trusted him, but never identified with him. An increase in racial diversity in healthcare would stop many children from falling victim to my uncle’s fate and in my pursuit of a pediatric physician occupation, I aim to prevent that in any way I can. Being a person of color, and a woman at that, I can pull a population of adolescents that other people may not be accustomed to. With the help of this scholarship, I can build the foundation that one patient at a time can increase the rate of representation.

2020. Many hear this year and automatically think of the virus that ravaged our nation. I, however, look at this year, its four numbers, and just try to forget it. Growing up in an African home, a healthcare-related occupation was always encouraged, but it was plain to see that there was an obvious distrust of it. In particular, the older members of my family would often rather use homemade remedies, rather than seek professional help. This way of living was planted from a young age and grew up with them throughout their lives. In all honesty, I never saw a real issue with this. Never saw an issue when my grandma used a VapoRub substitute for a cold that lasted 5 weeks. Never saw an issue when my aunt was using imported blood pressure pills. Never saw an issue, until my uncle died from an untreated leg infection caused by his underlying diabetes. His death was painful and cut deep. We questioned ourselves, why didn’t we get him help? Internally, I questioned him. There were hospitals all over our city that could’ve gotten him an antibiotic or some type of treatment. After the funeral, my mom finally let me see a picture and I was mortified. The skin on his leg was withering away, almost as if he had been badly burned. I was petrified but at the same time could not look away. My uncle's death is one of many examples of fear and distrust in the healthcare field taking the ultimate toll. No other family should feel the pain and suffering our family felt at the hands of skepticism. Building trust starts early and from a young age, I was fortunate enough to be comfortable with my doctors and health personnel in general. In fact was so inspired, I knew one day I wanted to be a pediatric physician myself. Pediatrics is a field that requires focus in the psychology of children alongside the physician aspect. Making sure a child is comfortable enough to actually tell you what is going on in their body is one of the top priorities and it builds that trust that is sometimes lost. Then there is the longing for relatability. For example, my childhood doctor was a middle-aged white man, a perfect description for the exact opposite of me. I trusted him, but never identified with him. An increase of racial diversity in healthcare would stop many children from falling victim to my uncle’s fate and in my pursuit of a pediatric physician occupation, I aim to prevent that in any way I can. Being a person of color, and a woman at that, I have the ability to pull a population of adolescents that other people many not be accustomed to. With the help of this scholarship, I can build the foundation that one patient at a time can increase the rate of representation

2020. Many hear this year and automatically think of the virus that ravaged our nation. I, however, look at this year, its four numbers, and just try to forget it. Growing up in an African home, a healthcare-related occupation was always encouraged, but it was plain to see that there was an obvious distrust of it. In particular, the older members of my family would often rather use homemade remedies, rather than seek professional help. This way of living was planted from a young age and grew up with them throughout their lives. In all honesty, I never saw a real issue with this. Never saw an issue when my grandma used a VapoRub substitute for a cold that lasted 5 weeks. Never saw an issue when my aunt was using imported blood pressure pills. Never saw an issue, until my uncle died from an untreated leg infection caused by his underlying diabetes. His death was painful and cut deep. We questioned ourselves, why didn’t we get him help? Internally, I questioned him. There were hospitals all over our city that could’ve gotten him an antibiotic or some type of treatment. After the funeral, my mom finally let me see a picture and I was mortified. The skin on his leg was withering away, almost as if he had been badly burned. I was petrified but at the same time could not look away. My uncle's death is one of many examples of fear and distrust in the healthcare field taking the ultimate toll. No other family should feel the pain and suffering our family felt at the hands of skepticism. Building trust starts early and from a young age, I was fortunate enough to be comfortable with my doctors and health personnel in general. In fact was so inspired, I knew one day I wanted to be a pediatric physician myself. Pediatrics is a field that requires focus in the psychology of children alongside the physician aspect. Making sure a child is comfortable enough to actually tell you what is going on in their body is one of the top priorities and it builds that trust that is sometimes lost. Then there is the longing for relatability. For example, my childhood doctor was a middle-aged white man, a perfect description for the exact opposite of me. I trusted him, but never identified with him. An increase of racial diversity in healthcare would stop many children from falling victim to my uncle’s fate and in my pursuit of a pediatric physician occupation, I aim to prevent that in any way I can. Being a person of color, and a woman at that, I have the ability to pull a population of adolescents that other people many not be accustomed to. With the help of this scholarship, I can build the foundation that one patient at a time can increase the rate of representation

As a Ghanaian-American, I have numerous stories of independence fighters and their stories, but one stands out to me the most: Yaa Asantewaa. Ghana, my mother country, was the first Pan-African nation to gain independence from any imperialist hold and with that status came many role models that immerged. For females, Yaa Asantewaa was one of the earlier versions. She is known for her role as Queen mother, a tribal leader who alongside her husband ruled over the people of the tribe. In her time, Asantewaa went against the maternal norm and instead of staying home in her palace, went out and protested the British's presence. When the British tried to dishonor the sacred golden stool, a coveted item in Ashanti culture, Asantewaa inspired the men to rise up and rebel against them. She became an image of strength all the way until her capture and death in Seychelles. Yaa Asantewaa is a such a great reminder to all women the potential they have to lead. As a Ghanaian woman however she embodies resilience while still respecting traditional morals and that gives me hope that I as small as I may seem, can still impact and influence the multitudes.

2020. Many hear this year and automatically think of the virus that ravaged our nation. I, however, look at this year, its four numbers, and just try to forget it. Growing up in an African home, a healthcare-related occupation was always encouraged, but it was plain to see that there was an obvious distrust of it. In particular, the older members of my family would often rather use homemade remedies, rather than seek professional help. This way of living was planted from a young age and grew up with them throughout their lives. In all honesty, I never saw a real issue with this. Never saw an issue when my grandma used a VapoRub substitute for a cold that lasted 5 weeks. Never saw an issue when my aunt was using imported blood pressure pills. Never saw an issue, until my uncle died from an untreated leg infection caused by his underlying diabetes. His death was painful and cut deep. We questioned ourselves, why didn’t we get him help? Internally, I questioned him. There were hospitals all over our city that could’ve gotten him an antibiotic or some type of treatment. After the funeral, my mom finally let me see a picture and I was mortified. The skin on his leg was withering away, almost as if he had been badly burned. I was petrified but at the same time could not look away. My uncle's death is one of many examples of fear and distrust in the healthcare field taking the ultimate toll. No other family should feel the pain and suffering our family felt at the hands of skepticism. Building trust starts early and from a young age, I was fortunate enough to be comfortable with my doctors and health personnel in general. I in fact was so inspired, I knew one day I wanted to be a pediatric physician myself. Pediatrics is a field that requires a focus on the psychology of children alongside the physician aspect. Making sure a child is comfortable enough to actually tell you what is going on in their body is one of the top priorities and it builds that trust that is sometimes lost. Then there is the longing for relatability. For example, my childhood doctor was a middle-aged white man, a perfect description for the exact opposite of me. I trusted him, but never identified with him. An increase in racial diversity in healthcare would stop many children from falling victim to my uncle’s fate and in my pursuit of a pediatric physician occupation, I aim to prevent that in any way I can. Being a person of color, and a woman at that, I have the ability to pull a population of adolescents that other people may not be accustomed to. With the help of this scholarship, I can build the foundation that one patient at a time can increase the rate of representation.

2020. Many hear this year and automatically think of the virus that ravaged our nation. I, however, look at this year, its four numbers, and just try to forget it. Growing up in an African home, a healthcare-related occupation was always encouraged, but it was plain to see that there was an obvious distrust of it. In particular, the older members of my family would often rather use homemade remedies, rather than seek professional help. This way of living was planted from a young age and grew up with them throughout their lives. In all honesty, I never saw a real issue with this. Never saw an issue when my grandma used a VapoRub substitute for a cold that lasted 5 weeks. Never saw an issue when my aunt was using imported blood pressure pills. Never saw an issue, until my uncle died from an untreated leg infection caused by his underlying diabetes. His death was painful and cut deep. We questioned ourselves, why didn’t we get him help? Internally, I questioned him. There were hospitals all over our city that could’ve gotten him an antibiotic or some type of treatment. After the funeral, my mom finally let me see a picture and I was mortified. The skin on his leg was withering away, almost as if he had been badly burned. I was petrified but at the same time could not look away. My uncle's death is one of many examples of fear and distrust in the healthcare field taking the ultimate toll. No other family should feel the pain and suffering our family felt at the hands of skepticism. Building trust starts early and from a young age, I was fortunate enough to be comfortable with my doctors and health personnel in general. In fact was so inspired, I knew one day I wanted to be a pediatric physician myself. Pediatrics is a field that requires focus in the psychology of children alongside the physician aspect. Making sure a child is comfortable enough to actually tell you what is going on in their body is one of the top priorities and it builds that trust that is sometimes lost. Then there is the longing for relatability. For example, my childhood doctor was a middle-aged white man, a perfect description for the exact opposite of me. I trusted him, but never identified with him. An increase of racial diversity in healthcare would stop many children from falling victim to my uncle’s fate and in my pursuit of a pediatric physician occupation, I aim to prevent that in any way I can. Being a person of color, and a woman at that, I have the ability to pull a population of adolescents that other people many not be accustomed to. With the help of this scholarship, I can build the foundation that one patient at a time can increase the rate of representation

Staying True to myself is something I strive to implement every single day. Whether it be expressing myself through clothing or the way I talk, I try to be unapologetically me. Confidence has not always been an easy aspect of my life. I remember looking at the other girls in my classes as far back as elementary school and thinking: Why am I not as skinny as them? Why can't I fit into a small?, and most disheartening of all, Why am I not as pretty as them? This Mindset and slew of discouraging thoughts continued until seventh grade, with a teacher by the name of Ms. Zaia. She herself was a rape survivor and used her story many times to empower every person in our homeroom. I remember breaking down during one of our check-ins, telling her almost every thought that was eating me up. She sat quietly and let me finish and at the end, she wiped my tears, looked me in my eyes, and told me, " You are you for a reason. No one else looks like you because no one else is supposed to look like you. You don't need to compare yourself to anyone for you are fearfully and wonderfully made." Ms. Zaia's words have stuck with me ever since. I held my head a little higher and started embracing my "flaws." from my discoloration to my acne, I know every part of me is there for a specific reason, all adding up to make a fabulous and unique being, me.