One morning when I was in the fourth grade, I woke up with what seemed like a rash around my mouth and eyes. My parents and I didn't think much of it at the time because I had a significant amount of allergies and reactions to various things. A few days went by and my parents started to become concerned. The bright red rash had worsened now covering all round my eyes, nose and mouth. My mother made an appointment with our primary care physician, but little did I know there would be many more doctors to come. After trying various ointments and antibiotics, the pediatrician referred us to a local dermatologist because she was unable to diagnose or effectively treat the condition. The dermatologist attempted several other medications to no avail. Following additional allergy testing and consults with other providers in the practice, I was referred to University of Vermont dermatology. Despite all these visits, three quarters of my face was covered by a bright red bumpy rash. Several months passed as doctor after doctor at UVM unsuccessfully tried to treat me even sending my case to a consultation roundtable of providers. Surprisingly, their lack of familiarity with my darker skin and the condition proved to be an obstacle to a diagnosis. My parents and I felt defeated. I was tired of doctors telling me that it was just acne, eczema or dermatitis, when none of the treatments for those conditions were working. Almost a year later, on the verge of being referred to Boston, the rash finally started to fade away on its own. What never faded away was the trauma I endured sitting in all of those doctors’ offices as they took pictures, measured and whispered to each other – treating me as a curiosity rather than a scared and embarrassed kid. White doctors were not used to seeing conditions on skin different from their own or the vast majority of the patients they treated. It became apparent from some of their own statements, that my blackness was the reason I couldn't get a definite diagnosis and appropriate treatment. Looking back, it is apparent to me how the lack of diversity and awareness can impact the quality of care. This experience informed my interest in a career in nursing and dermatology. My ultimate goal is to become a Dermatology NP so that I can give all patients, but specifically people of color, the care that I never received. Beyond being able to diagnose conditions that look different on different races, cultural backgrounds, and skin tones, I want all my future patients to feel human and seen. This experience also taught me how important it is to advocate for yourself and others. As people of color, our stories, experiences, and struggles are often diminished by individuals and the greater society. This reality can negatively impact our well being and feelings of security and belonging. As I grow into myself and find my voice, I want to use it to walk beside people who are struggling and advocate for justice in the communities I live and work. I want to ensure that my family and friends, as well as my future patients, will all have a community in which they can feel safe and heard. I am excited to use my challenges and triumphs, big and small, to provide thorough, thoughtful, sensitive and equitable care.

One morning when I was in the fourth grade, I woke up with what seemed like a rash around my mouth and eyes. My parents and I didn't think much of it at the time because I had a significant amount of allergies and reactions to various things. A few days went by and my parents started to become concerned. The bright red rash had worsened now covering all round my eyes, nose and mouth. My mother made an appointment with our primary care physician, but little did I know there would be many more doctors to come. After trying various ointments and antibiotics, the pediatrician referred us to a local dermatologist because she was unable to diagnose or effectively treat the condition. The dermatologist attempted several other medications to no avail. Following additional allergy testing and consults with other providers in the practice, I was referred to University of Vermont dermatology. Despite all these visits, three quarters of my face was covered by a bright red bumpy rash. Several months passed as doctor after doctor at UVM unsuccessfully tried to treat me even sending my case to a consultation roundtable of providers. Surprisingly, their lack of familiarity with my darker skin and the condition proved to be an obstacle to a diagnosis. My parents and I felt defeated. I was tired of doctors telling me that it was just acne, eczema or dermatitis, when none of the treatments for those conditions were working. Almost a year later, on the verge of being referred to Boston, the rash finally started to fade away on its own. What never faded away was the trauma I endured sitting in all of those doctors’ offices as they took pictures, measured and whispered to each other – treating me as a curiosity rather than a scared and embarrassed kid. White doctors were not used to seeing conditions on skin different from their own or the vast majority of the patients they treated. It became apparent from some of their own statements, that my blackness was the reason I couldn't get a definite diagnosis and appropriate treatment. Looking back, it is apparent to me how the lack of diversity and awareness can impact the quality of care. This experience informed my interest in a career in nursing and dermatology. My ultimate goal is to become a Dermatology NP so that I can give all patients, but specifically people of color, the care that I never received. Beyond being able to diagnose conditions that look different on different races, cultural backgrounds, and skin tones, I want all my future patients to feel human and seen. This experience also taught me how important it is to advocate for yourself and others. As people of color, our stories, experiences, and struggles are often diminished by individuals and the greater society. This reality can negatively impact our well being and feelings of security and belonging. As I grow into myself and find my voice, I want to use it to walk beside people who are struggling and advocate for justice in the communities I live and work. I want to ensure that my family and friends, as well as my future patients, will all have a community in which they can feel safe and heard. I am excited to use my challenges and triumphs, big and small, to provide thorough, thoughtful, sensitive and equitable care.

One morning when I was in the fourth grade, I woke up with what seemed like a rash around my mouth and eyes. My parents and I didn't think much of it at the time because I had a significant amount of allergies and reactions to various things. A few days went by and my parents started to become concerned. The bright red rash had worsened now covering all round my eyes, nose and mouth. My mother made an appointment with our primary care physician, but little did I know there would be many more doctors to come. After trying various ointments and antibiotics, the pediatrician referred us to a local dermatologist because she was unable to diagnose or effectively treat the condition. The dermatologist attempted several other medications to no avail. Following additional allergy testing and consults with other providers in the practice, I was referred to University of Vermont dermatology. Despite all these visits, three quarters of my face was covered by a bright red bumpy rash. Several months passed as doctor after doctor at UVM unsuccessfully tried to treat me even sending my case to a consultation roundtable of providers. Surprisingly, their lack of familiarity with my darker skin and the condition proved to be an obstacle to a diagnosis. My parents and I felt defeated. I was tired of doctors telling me that it was just acne, eczema or dermatitis, when none of the treatments for those conditions were working. Almost a year later, on the verge of being referred to Boston, the rash finally started to fade away on its own. What never faded away was the trauma I endured sitting in all of those doctors’ offices as they took pictures, measured and whispered to each other – treating me as a curiosity rather than a scared and embarrassed kid. White doctors were not used to seeing conditions on skin different from their own or the vast majority of the patients they treated. It became apparent from some of their own statements, that my blackness was the reason I couldn't get a definite diagnosis and appropriate treatment. Looking back, it is apparent to me how the lack of diversity and awareness can impact the quality of care. This experience informed my interest in a career in nursing and dermatology. My ultimate goal is to become a Dermatology NP so that I can give all patients, but specifically people of color, the care that I never received. Beyond being able to diagnose conditions that look different on different races, cultural backgrounds, and skin tones, I want all my future patients to feel human and seen. This experience also taught me how important it is to advocate for yourself and others. As people of color, our stories, experiences, and struggles are often diminished by individuals and the greater society. This reality can negatively impact our well being and feelings of security and belonging. As I grow into myself and find my voice, I want to use it to walk beside people who are struggling and advocate for justice in the communities I live and work. I want to ensure that my family and friends, as well as my future patients, will all have a community in which they can feel safe and heard. I am excited to use my challenges and triumphs, big and small, to provide thorough, thoughtful, sensitive and equitable care.

One morning when I was in the fourth grade, I woke up with what seemed like a rash around my mouth and eyes. My parents and I didn't think much of it at the time because I had a significant amount of allergies and reactions to various things. A few days went by and my parents started to become concerned. The bright red rash had worsened now covering all round my eyes, nose and mouth. My mother made an appointment with our primary care physician, but little did I know there would be many more doctors to come. After trying various ointments and antibiotics, the pediatrician referred us to a local dermatologist because she was unable to diagnose or effectively treat the condition. The dermatologist attempted several other medications to no avail. Following additional allergy testing and consults with other providers in the practice, I was referred to University of Vermont dermatology. Despite all these visits, three quarters of my face was covered by a bright red bumpy rash. Several months passed as doctor after doctor at UVM unsuccessfully tried to treat me even sending my case to a consultation roundtable of providers. Surprisingly, their lack of familiarity with my darker skin and the condition proved to be an obstacle to a diagnosis. My parents and I felt defeated. I was tired of doctors telling me that it was just acne, eczema or dermatitis, when none of the treatments for those conditions were working. Almost a year later, on the verge of being referred to Boston, the rash finally started to fade away on its own. What never faded away was the trauma I endured sitting in all of those doctors’ offices as they took pictures, measured and whispered to each other – treating me as a curiosity rather than a scared and embarrassed kid. White doctors were not used to seeing conditions on skin different from their own or the vast majority of the patients they treated. It became apparent from some of their own statements, that my blackness was the reason I couldn't get a definite diagnosis and appropriate treatment. Looking back, it is apparent to me how the lack of diversity and awareness can impact the quality of care. This experience informed my interest in a career in nursing and dermatology. My ultimate goal is to become a Dermatology NP so that I can give all patients, but specifically people of color, the care that I never received. Beyond being able to diagnose conditions that look different on different races, cultural backgrounds, and skin tones, I want all my future patients to feel human and seen. This experience also taught me how important it is to advocate for yourself and others. As people of color, our stories, experiences, and struggles are often diminished by individuals and the greater society. This reality can negatively impact our well being and feelings of security and belonging. As I grow into myself and find my voice, I want to use it to walk beside people who are struggling and advocate for justice in the communities I live and work. I want to ensure that my family and friends, as well as my future patients, will all have a community in which they can feel safe and heard. I am excited to use my challenges and triumphs, big and small, to provide thorough, thoughtful, sensitive and equitable care.

One morning when I was in the fourth grade, I woke up with what seemed like a rash around my mouth and eyes. My parents and I didn't think much of it at the time because I had a significant amount of allergies and reactions to various things. A few days went by and my parents started to become concerned. The bright red rash had worsened now covering all round my eyes, nose and mouth. My mother made an appointment with our primary care physician, but little did I know there would be many more doctors to come. After trying various ointments and antibiotics, the pediatrician referred us to a local dermatologist because she was unable to diagnose or effectively treat the condition. The dermatologist attempted several other medications to no avail. Following additional allergy testing and consults with other providers in the practice, I was referred to University of Vermont dermatology. Despite all these visits, three quarters of my face was covered by a bright red bumpy rash. Several months passed as doctor after doctor at UVM unsuccessfully tried to treat me even sending my case to a consultation roundtable of providers. Surprisingly, their lack of familiarity with my darker skin and the condition proved to be an obstacle to a diagnosis. My parents and I felt defeated. I was tired of doctors telling me that it was just acne, eczema or dermatitis, when none of the treatments for those conditions were working. Almost a year later, on the verge of being referred to Boston, the rash finally started to fade away on its own. What never faded away was the trauma I endured sitting in all of those doctors’ offices as they took pictures, measured and whispered to each other – treating me as a curiosity rather than a scared and embarrassed kid. White doctors were not used to seeing conditions on skin different from their own or the vast majority of the patients they treated. It became apparent from some of their own statements, that my blackness was the reason I couldn't get a definite diagnosis and appropriate treatment. Looking back, it is apparent to me how the lack of diversity and awareness can impact the quality of care. This experience informed my interest in a career in nursing and dermatology. My ultimate goal is to become a Dermatology NP so that I can give all patients, but specifically people of color, the care that I never received. Beyond being able to diagnose conditions that look different on different races, cultural backgrounds, and skin tones, I want all my future patients to feel human and seen. This experience also taught me how important it is to advocate for yourself and others. As people of color, our stories, experiences, and struggles are often diminished by individuals and the greater society. This reality can negatively impact our well being and feelings of security and belonging. As I grow into myself and find my voice, I want to use it to walk beside people who are struggling and advocate for justice in the communities I live and work. I want to ensure that my family and friends, as well as my future patients, will all have a community in which they can feel safe and heard. I am excited to use my challenges and triumphs, big and small, to provide thorough, thoughtful, sensitive and equitable care.

One morning when I was in the fourth grade, I woke up with what seemed like a rash around my mouth and eyes. My parents and I didn't think much of it at the time because I had a significant amount of allergies and reactions to various things. A few days went by and my parents started to become concerned. The bright red rash had worsened now covering all round my eyes, nose and mouth. My mother made an appointment with our primary care physician, but little did I know there would be many more doctors to come. After trying various ointments and antibiotics, the pediatrician referred us to a local dermatologist because she was unable to diagnose or effectively treat the condition. The dermatologist attempted several other medications to no avail. Following additional allergy testing and consults with other providers in the practice, I was referred to University of Vermont dermatology. Despite all these visits, three quarters of my face was covered by a bright red bumpy rash. Several months passed as doctor after doctor at UVM unsuccessfully tried to treat me even sending my case to a consultation roundtable of providers. Surprisingly, their lack of familiarity with my darker skin and the condition proved to be an obstacle to a diagnosis. My parents and I felt defeated. I was tired of doctors telling me that it was just acne, eczema or dermatitis, when none of the treatments for those conditions were working. Almost a year later, on the verge of being referred to Boston, the rash finally started to fade away on its own. What never faded away was the trauma I endured sitting in all of those doctors’ offices as they took pictures, measured and whispered to each other – treating me as a curiosity rather than a scared and embarrassed kid. White doctors were not used to seeing conditions on skin different from their own or the vast majority of the patients they treated. It became apparent from some of their own statements, that my blackness was the reason I couldn't get a definite diagnosis and appropriate treatment. Looking back, it is apparent to me how the lack of diversity and awareness can impact the quality of care. This experience informed my interest in a career in nursing and dermatology. My ultimate goal is to become a Dermatology NP so that I can give all patients, but specifically people of color, the care that I never received. Beyond being able to diagnose conditions that look different on different races, cultural backgrounds, and skin tones, I want all my future patients to feel human and seen. This experience also taught me how important it is to advocate for yourself and others. As people of color, our stories, experiences, and struggles are often diminished by individuals and the greater society. This reality can negatively impact our well being and feelings of security and belonging. Keeping this fact in mind, following an incident in my high school in the Spring 2024, that resulted in a backlash of racist rhetoric in the halls, classrooms, and on social media, I co-founded a Black Student Union at my high school with a mission of creating a safe space and environment that promotes black excellence, mental wellness, and academic success for black students in a overwhelmingly white school. As I grow into myself and find my voice, I want to use it to walk beside people who are struggling and advocate for justice in the communities I live and work. I want to ensure that my family and friends, as well as my future patients, will all have a community in which they can feel safe and heard. I am excited to use my challenges and triumphs, big and small, to provide thorough, thoughtful, sensitive and equitable care.

One morning when I was in the fourth grade, I woke up with what seemed like a rash around my mouth and eyes. My parents and I didn't think much of it at the time because I had a significant amount of allergies and reactions to various things. A few days went by and my parents started to become concerned. The bright red rash had worsened now covering all round my eyes, nose and mouth. My mother made an appointment with our primary care physician, but little did I know there would be many more doctors to come. After trying various ointments and antibiotics, the pediatrician referred us to a local dermatologist because she was unable to diagnose or effectively treat the condition. The dermatologist attempted several other medications to no avail. Following additional allergy testing and consults with other providers in the practice, I was referred to University of Vermont dermatology. Despite all these visits, three quarters of my face was covered by a bright red bumpy rash. Several months passed as doctor after doctor at UVM unsuccessfully tried to treat me even sending my case to a consultation roundtable of providers. Surprisingly, their lack of familiarity with my darker skin and the condition proved to be an obstacle to a diagnosis. My parents and I felt defeated. I was tired of doctors telling me that it was just acne, eczema or dermatitis, when none of the treatments for those conditions were working. Almost a year later, on the verge of being referred to Boston, the rash finally started to fade away on its own. What never faded away was the trauma I endured sitting in all of those doctors’ offices as they took pictures, measured and whispered to each other – treating me as a curiosity rather than a scared and embarrassed kid. White doctors were not used to seeing conditions on skin different from their own or the vast majority of the patients they treated. It became apparent from some of their own statements, that my blackness was the reason I couldn't get a definite diagnosis and appropriate treatment. Looking back, it is apparent to me how the lack of diversity and awareness can impact the quality of care. This experience informed my interest in a career in nursing and dermatology. My ultimate goal is to become a Dermatology NP so that I can give all patients, but specifically people of color, the care that I never received. Beyond being able to diagnose conditions that look different on different races, cultural backgrounds, and skin tones, I want all my future patients to feel human and seen. This experience also taught me how important it is to advocate for yourself and others. As people of color, our stories, experiences, and struggles are often diminished by individuals and the greater society. As I grow into myself and find my voice, I want to use it to walk beside people who are struggling and advocate for justice in the communities I live and work. I want to ensure that my family and friends, as well as my future patients, will all have a community in which they can feel safe and heard. I am excited to use my challenges and triumphs, big and small, to provide thorough, thoughtful, sensitive and equitable care.

One morning when I was in the fourth grade, I woke up with what seemed like a rash around my mouth and eyes. My parents and I didn't think much of it at the time because I had a significant amount of allergies and reactions to various things. A few days went by and my parents started to become concerned. The bright red rash had worsened now covering all round my eyes, nose and mouth. My mother made an appointment with our primary care physician, but little did I know there would be many more doctors to come. After trying various ointments and antibiotics, the pediatrician referred us to a local dermatologist because she was unable to diagnose or effectively treat the condition. The dermatologist attempted several other medications to no avail. Following additional allergy testing and consults with other providers in the practice, I was referred to University of Vermont dermatology. Despite all these visits, three quarters of my face was covered by a bright red bumpy rash. Several months passed as doctor after doctor at UVM unsuccessfully tried to treat me even sending my case to a consultation roundtable of providers. Surprisingly, their lack of familiarity with my darker skin and the condition proved to be an obstacle to a diagnosis. My parents and I felt defeated. I was tired of doctors telling me that it was just acne, eczema or dermatitis, when none of the treatments for those conditions were working. Almost a year later, on the verge of being referred to Boston, the rash finally started to fade away on its own. What never faded away was the trauma I endured sitting in all of those doctors’ offices as they took pictures, measured and whispered to each other – treating me as a curiosity rather than a scared and embarrassed kid. White doctors were not used to seeing conditions on skin different from their own or the vast majority of the patients they treated. It became apparent from some of their own statements, that my blackness was the reason I couldn't get a definite diagnosis and appropriate treatment. Looking back, it is apparent to me how the lack of diversity and awareness can impact the quality of care. This experience informed my interest in a career in nursing and dermatology. My ultimate goal is to become a Dermatology NP so that I can give all patients, but specifically people of color, the care that I never received. Beyond being able to diagnose conditions that look different on different races, cultural backgrounds, and skin tones, I want all my future patients to feel human and seen. As I grow into myself and find my voice, I want to use it to walk beside people who are struggling and advocate for justice in the communities I live and work. I want to ensure that my family and friends, as well as my future patients, will all have a community in which they can feel safe and heard. I am excited to use my challenges and triumphs, big and small, to provide thorough, thoughtful, sensitive and equitable care. I found out about this scholarship through the My Matches tab on Bold.org.

One morning when I was in the fourth grade, I woke up with what seemed like a rash around my mouth and eyes. My parents and I didn't think much of it at the time because I had a significant amount of allergies and reactions to various things. A few days went by and my parents started to become concerned. The bright red rash had worsened now covering all round my eyes, nose and mouth. My mother made an appointment with our primary care physician, but little did I know there would be many more doctors to come. After trying various ointments and antibiotics, the pediatrician referred us to a local dermatologist because she was unable to diagnose or effectively treat the condition. The dermatologist attempted several other medications to no avail. Following additional allergy testing and consults with other providers in the practice, I was referred to University of Vermont dermatology. Despite all these visits, three quarters of my face was covered by a bright red bumpy rash. Several months passed as doctor after doctor at UVM unsuccessfully tried to treat me even sending my case to a consultation roundtable of providers. Surprisingly, their lack of familiarity with my darker skin and the condition proved to be an obstacle to a diagnosis. My parents and I felt defeated. I was tired of doctors telling me that it was just acne, eczema or dermatitis, when none of the treatments for those conditions were working. Almost a year later, on the verge of being referred to Boston, the rash finally started to fade away on its own. What never faded away was the trauma I endured sitting in all of those doctors’ offices as they took pictures, measured and whispered to each other – treating me as a curiosity rather than a scared and embarrassed kid. White doctors were not used to seeing conditions on skin different from their own or the vast majority of the patients they treated. It became apparent from some of their own statements, that my blackness was the reason I couldn't get a definite diagnosis and appropriate treatment. Looking back, it is apparent to me how the lack of diversity and awareness can impact the quality of care. This experience informed my interest in a career in nursing and dermatology. My ultimate goal is to become a Dermatology NP so that I can give all patients, but specifically people of color, the care that I never received. Beyond being able to diagnose conditions that look different on different races, cultural backgrounds, and skin tones, I want all my future patients to feel human and seen. This experience also taught me how important it is to advocate for yourself and others. As people of color, our stories, experiences, and struggles are often diminished by individuals and the greater society. Keeping this fact in mind, I co-founded a Black Student Union at my high school with a mission of creating a safe space and environment that promotes black excellence, mental wellness, and academic success for black students in a overwhelmingly white school. As I grow into myself and find my voice, I want to use it to walk beside people who are struggling and advocate for justice in the communities I live and work. I want to ensure that my family and friends, as well as my future patients, will all have a community in which they can feel safe and heard. I am excited to use my challenges and triumphs, big and small, to provide thorough, thoughtful, sensitive and equitable care.

One morning when I was in the fourth grade, I woke up with what seemed like a rash around my mouth and eyes. My parents and I didn't think much of it at the time because I had a significant amount of allergies and reactions to various things. A few days went by and my parents started to become concerned. The bright red rash had worsened now covering all round my eyes, nose and mouth. My mother made an appointment with our primary care physician, but little did I know there would be many more doctors to come. After trying various ointments and antibiotics, the pediatrician referred us to a local dermatologist because she was unable to diagnose or effectively treat the condition. The dermatologist attempted several other medications to no avail. Following additional allergy testing and consults with other providers in the practice, I was referred to University of Vermont dermatology. Despite all these visits, three quarters of my face was covered by a bright red bumpy rash. Several months passed as doctor after doctor at UVM unsuccessfully tried to treat me even sending my case to a consultation roundtable of providers. Surprisingly, their lack of familiarity with my darker skin and the condition proved to be an obstacle to a diagnosis. My parents and I felt defeated. I was tired of doctors telling me that it was just acne, eczema or dermatitis, when none of the treatments for those conditions were working. Almost a year later, on the verge of being referred to Boston, the rash finally started to fade away on its own. What never faded away was the trauma I endured sitting in all of those doctors’ offices as they took pictures, measured and whispered to each other – treating me as a curiosity rather than a scared and embarrassed kid. White doctors were not used to seeing conditions on skin different from their own or the vast majority of the patients they treated. It became apparent from some of their own statements, that my blackness was the reason I couldn't get a definite diagnosis and appropriate treatment. Looking back, it is apparent to me how the lack of diversity and awareness can impact the quality of care. This experience informed my interest in a career in nursing and dermatology. My ultimate goal is to become a Dermatology NP so that I can give all patients, but specifically people of color, the care that I never received. Beyond being able to diagnose conditions that look different on different races, cultural backgrounds, and skin tones, I want all my future patients to feel human and seen. This experience also taught me how important it is to advocate for yourself and others. As people of color, our stories, experiences, and struggles are often diminished by individuals and the greater society. Keeping this fact in mind, I co-founded a Black Student Union at my high school with a mission of creating a safe space and environment that promotes black excellence, mental wellness, and academic success for black students in a overwhelmingly white school. As I grow into myself and find my voice, I want to use it to walk beside people who are struggling and advocate for justice in the communities I live and work. I want to ensure that my family and friends, as well as my future patients, will all have a community in which they can feel safe and heard. I am excited to use my challenges and triumphs, big and small, to provide thorough, thoughtful, sensitive and equitable care.

One morning when I was in the fourth grade, I woke up with what seemed like a rash around my mouth and eyes. My parents and I didn't think much of it at the time because I had a significant amount of allergies and reactions to various things. A few days went by and my parents started to become concerned. The bright red rash had worsened now covering all round my eyes, nose and mouth. My mother made an appointment with our primary care physician, but little did I know there would be many more doctors to come. After trying various medications, the pediatrician referred us to a local dermatologist because she was unable to diagnose or effectively treat the condition. The dermatologist attempted several other medications to no avail. Following additional allergy testing and consults with other providers in the practice, I was referred to University of Vermont dermatology. Despite all these visits, three quarters of my face was covered by a bright red bumpy rash. Several months passed as doctor after doctor at UVM unsuccessfully tried to treat me even sending my case to a consultation roundtable of providers. Surprisingly, their lack of familiarity with my darker skin and the condition proved to be an obstacle to a diagnosis. My parents and I felt defeated. I was tired of doctors telling me that it was just acne, or eczema when none of the treatments for those conditions were working. Almost a year later, on the verge of being referred to Boston, the rash finally started to fade away on its own. What never faded away was the trauma I endured sitting in all of those doctors’ offices as they took pictures, measured and whispered to each other – treating me as a curiosity rather than a scared, embarrassed kid. White doctors were not used to seeing conditions on skin different from their own or the vast majority of the patients they treated. It became apparent from some of their own statements, that my blackness was the reason I couldn't get a definite diagnosis and appropriate treatment. Looking back, it shows how the lack of diversity and awareness can impact the quality of care. This experience informed my interest in a career in nursing and dermatology. My ultimate goal is to become a Dermatology NP so that I can give all patients, but specifically people of color, the care that I never received. Beyond being able to diagnose conditions that look different on different races, cultural backgrounds, and skin tones, I want all my future patients to feel human and seen. This experience also taught me how important it is to advocate for yourself and others. As people of color, our stories, experiences, and struggles are often diminished by individuals and the greater society. Keeping this fact in mind, following an incident in my high school in the Spring 2024, that resulted in a backlash of racist rhetoric in the halls, classrooms, and on social media, I co-founded a Black Student Union at my high school with a mission of creating a safe space and environment that promotes black excellence, mental wellness, and academic success for black students in a overwhelmingly white school. As I grow into myself and find my voice, I want to use it to walk beside people who are struggling and advocate for justice in the communities I live and work. I want to ensure that my family and friends, as well as my future patients, will all have a community in which they can feel safe and heard.

As a Haitian-American woman, I witnessed firsthand how health disparities affect Caribbean communities, especially when it comes to access to culturally competent care. A specific health challenge I faced illuminated this issue and shaped my desire to address it. When I was in the fourth grade, I developed a bright red rash around my mouth and eyes. As a child with many allergies, my parents initially didn't think much of it. However, over time, the rash worsened and spread across my face, and we sought medical attention. Despite numerous visits to different doctors and various treatments, none of the physicians could diagnose or effectively treat my condition. Almost a year later, on the verge of being referred to Boston, the rash finally started to fade away on its own. What never faded away was the trauma I endured sitting in all of those doctors’ offices as they took pictures, measured and whispered to each other – treating me as a curiosity rather than a scared and embarrassed kid. White doctors were not used to seeing conditions on skin different from their own or the vast majority of the patients they treated. It became apparent from some of their own statements, that my blackness was the reason I couldn't get a definite diagnosis and appropriate treatment. Looking back, it is apparent to me how the lack of diversity and awareness can impact the quality of care. This experience informed my interest in a career in nursing and dermatology. My ultimate goal is to become a Dermatology NP so that I can give all patients, but specifically people of color, the care that I never received. Beyond being able to diagnose conditions that look different on different races, cultural backgrounds, and skin tones, I want all my future patients to feel human and seen. This experience also taught me how important it is to advocate for yourself and others. As people of color, our stories, experiences, and struggles are often diminished by individuals and the greater society. This reality can negatively impact our well being and feelings of security and belonging. Keeping this fact in mind, following an incident in my high school in the Spring 2024, that resulted in a backlash of racist rhetoric in the halls, classrooms, and on social media, I co-founded a Black Student Union at my high school with a mission of creating a safe space and environment that promotes black excellence, mental wellness, and academic success for black students in a overwhelmingly white school. As I grow into myself and find my voice, I want to use it to walk beside people who are struggling and advocate for justice in the communities I live and work. I want to ensure that my family and friends, as well as my future patients, will all have a community in which they can feel safe and heard. I am excited to use my challenges and triumphs, big and small, to provide thorough, thoughtful, sensitive and equitable care.

One morning when I was in the fourth grade, I woke up with what seemed like a rash around my mouth and eyes. My parents and I didn't think much of it at the time because I had a significant amount of allergies and reactions to various things. A few days went by and my parents started to become concerned. The bright red rash had worsened now covering all round my eyes, nose and mouth. My mother made an appointment with our primary care physician, but little did I know there would be many more doctors to come. After trying various medications, the pediatrician referred us to a local dermatologist because she was unable to diagnose or effectively treat the condition. The dermatologist attempted several other medications to no avail. Following additional allergy testing and consults with other providers in the practice, I was referred to University of Vermont dermatology. Despite all these visits, three quarters of my face was covered by a bright red bumpy rash. Several months passed as doctor after doctor at UVM unsuccessfully tried to treat me even sending my case to a consultation roundtable of providers. Surprisingly, their lack of familiarity with my darker skin and the condition proved to be an obstacle to a diagnosis. My parents and I felt defeated. I was tired of doctors telling me that it was just acne, or eczema when none of the treatments for those conditions were working. Almost a year later, on the verge of being referred to Boston, the rash finally started to fade away on its own. What never faded away was the trauma I endured sitting in all of those doctors’ offices as they took pictures, measured and whispered to each other – treating me as a curiosity rather than a scared, embarrassed kid. White doctors were not used to seeing conditions on skin different from their own or the vast majority of the patients they treated. It became apparent from some of their own statements, that my blackness was the reason I couldn't get a definite diagnosis and appropriate treatment. Looking back, it shows how the lack of diversity and awareness can impact the quality of care. This experience informed my interest in a career in nursing and dermatology. My ultimate goal is to become a Dermatology NP so that I can give all patients, but specifically people of color, the care that I never received. Beyond being able to diagnose conditions that look different on different races, cultural backgrounds, and skin tones, I want all my future patients to feel human and seen. This experience also taught me how important it is to advocate for yourself and others. As people of color, our stories, experiences, and struggles are often diminished by individuals and the greater society. Keeping this fact in mind, following an incident in my high school in the Spring 2024, that resulted in a backlash of racist rhetoric in the halls, classrooms, and on social media, I co-founded a Black Student Union at my high school with a mission of creating a safe space and environment that promotes black excellence, mental wellness, and academic success for black students in a overwhelmingly white school. As I grow into myself and find my voice, I want to use it to walk beside people who are struggling and advocate for justice in the communities I live and work. I want to ensure that my family and friends, as well as my future patients, will all have a community in which they can feel safe and heard.

One morning when I was in the fourth grade, I woke up with what seemed like a rash around my mouth and eyes. My parents and I didn't think much of it at the time because I had a significant amount of allergies and reactions to various things. A few days went by and my parents started to become concerned. The bright red rash had worsened now covering all round my eyes, nose and mouth. My mother made an appointment with our primary care physician, but little did I know there would be many more doctors to come. After trying various medications, the pediatrician referred us to a local dermatologist because she was unable to diagnose or effectively treat the condition. The dermatologist attempted several other medications to no avail. Following additional allergy testing and consults with other providers in the practice, I was referred to University of Vermont dermatology. Despite all these visits, three quarters of my face was covered by a bright red bumpy rash. Several months passed as doctor after doctor at UVM unsuccessfully tried to treat me even sending my case to a consultation roundtable of providers. Surprisingly, their lack of familiarity with my darker skin and the condition proved to be an obstacle to a diagnosis. My parents and I felt defeated. I was tired of doctors telling me that it was just acne, or eczema when none of the treatments for those conditions were working. Almost a year later, on the verge of being referred to Boston, the rash finally started to fade away on its own. What never faded away was the trauma I endured sitting in all of those doctors’ offices as they took pictures, measured and whispered to each other – treating me as a curiosity rather than a scared, embarrassed kid. White doctors were not used to seeing conditions on skin different from their own or the vast majority of the patients they treated. It became apparent from some of their own statements, that my blackness was the reason I couldn't get a definite diagnosis and appropriate treatment. Looking back, it shows how the lack of diversity and awareness can impact the quality of care. This experience informed my interest in a career in nursing and dermatology. My ultimate goal is to become a Dermatology NP so that I can give all patients, but specifically people of color, the care that I never received. Beyond being able to diagnose conditions that look different on different races, cultural backgrounds, and skin tones, I want all my future patients to feel human and seen. This experience also taught me how important it is to advocate for yourself and others. As people of color, our stories, experiences, and struggles are often diminished by individuals and the greater society. Keeping this fact in mind, following an incident in my high school in the Spring 2024, that resulted in a backlash of racist rhetoric in the halls, classrooms, and on social media, I co-founded a Black Student Union at my high school with a mission of creating a safe space and environment that promotes black excellence, mental wellness, and academic success for black students in a overwhelmingly white school. As I grow into myself and find my voice, I want to use it to walk beside people who are struggling and advocate for justice in the communities I live and work. I want to ensure that my family and friends, as well as my future patients, will all have a community in which they can feel safe and heard.

One morning when I was in the fourth grade, I woke up with what seemed like a rash around my mouth and eyes. My parents and I didn't think much of it at the time because I had a significant amount of allergies and reactions to various things. A few days went by and my parents started to become concerned. The bright red rash had worsened now covering all round my eyes, nose and mouth. My mother made an appointment with our primary care physician, but little did I know there would be many more doctors to come. After trying various ointments and antibiotics, the pediatrician referred us to a local dermatologist because she was unable to diagnose or effectively treat the condition. The dermatologist attempted several other medications to no avail. Following additional allergy testing and consults with other providers in the practice, I was referred to University of Vermont dermatology. Despite all these visits, three quarters of my face was covered by a bright red bumpy rash. Several months passed as doctor after doctor at UVM unsuccessfully tried to treat me even sending my case to a consultation roundtable of providers. Surprisingly, their lack of familiarity with my darker skin and the condition proved to be an obstacle to a diagnosis. My parents and I felt defeated. I was tired of doctors telling me that it was just acne, eczema or dermatitis, when none of the treatments for those conditions were working. Almost a year later, on the verge of being referred to Boston, the rash finally started to fade away on its own. What never faded away was the trauma I endured sitting in all of those doctors’ offices as they took pictures, measured and whispered to each other – treating me as a curiosity rather than a scared and embarrassed kid. White doctors were not used to seeing conditions on skin different from their own or the vast majority of the patients they treated. It became apparent from some of their own statements, that my blackness was the reason I couldn't get a definite diagnosis and appropriate treatment. Looking back, it is apparent to me how the lack of diversity and awareness can impact the quality of care. This experience informed my interest in a career in nursing and dermatology. My ultimate goal is to become a Dermatology NP so that I can give all patients, but specifically people of color, the care that I never received. Beyond being able to diagnose conditions that look different on different races, cultural backgrounds, and skin tones, I want all my future patients to feel human and seen. As I grow into myself and find my voice, I want to use it to walk beside people who are struggling and advocate for justice in the communities I live and work. I want to ensure that my family and friends, as well as my future patients, will all have a community in which they can feel safe and heard. I am excited to use my challenges and triumphs, big and small, to provide thorough, thoughtful, sensitive and equitable care.

One morning when I was in the fourth grade, I woke up with what seemed like a rash around my mouth and eyes. My parents and I didn't think much of it at the time because I had a significant amount of allergies and reactions to various things. A few days went by and my parents started to become concerned. The bright red rash had worsened now covering all round my eyes, nose and mouth. My mother made an appointment with our primary care physician, but little did I know there would be many more doctors to come. After trying various ointments and antibiotics, the pediatrician referred us to a local dermatologist because she was unable to diagnose or effectively treat the condition. The dermatologist attempted several other medications to no avail. Following additional allergy testing and consults with other providers in the practice, I was referred to University of Vermont dermatology. Despite all these visits, three quarters of my face was covered by a bright red bumpy rash. Several months passed as doctor after doctor at UVM unsuccessfully tried to treat me even sending my case to a consultation roundtable of providers. Surprisingly, their lack of familiarity with my darker skin and the condition proved to be an obstacle to a diagnosis. My parents and I felt defeated. I was tired of doctors telling me that it was just acne, eczema or dermatitis, when none of the treatments for those conditions were working. Almost a year later, on the verge of being referred to Boston, the rash finally started to fade away on its own. What never faded away was the trauma I endured sitting in all of those doctors’ offices as they took pictures, measured and whispered to each other – treating me as a curiosity rather than a scared and embarrassed kid. White doctors were not used to seeing conditions on skin different from their own or the vast majority of the patients they treated. It became apparent from some of their own statements, that my blackness was the reason I couldn't get a definite diagnosis and appropriate treatment. Looking back, it is apparent to me how the lack of diversity and awareness can impact the quality of care. This experience informed my interest in a career in nursing and dermatology. My ultimate goal is to become a Dermatology NP so that I can give all patients, but specifically people of color, the care that I never received. Beyond being able to diagnose conditions that look different on different races, cultural backgrounds, and skin tones, I want all my future patients to feel human and seen. This experience also taught me how important it is to advocate for yourself and others. As people of color, our stories, experiences, and struggles are often diminished by individuals and the greater society. This reality can negatively impact our well being and feelings of security and belonging. As I grow into myself and find my voice, I want to use it to walk beside people who are struggling and advocate for justice in the communities I live and work. I want to ensure that my family and friends, as well as my future patients, will all have a community in which they can feel safe and heard. I am excited to use my challenges and triumphs, big and small, to provide thorough, thoughtful, sensitive and equitable care.

One morning when I was in the fourth grade, I woke up with what seemed like a rash around my mouth and eyes. My parents and I didn't think much of it at the time because I had a significant amount of allergies and reactions to various things. A few days went by and my parents started to become concerned. The bright red rash had worsened now covering all round my eyes, nose and mouth. My mother made an appointment with our primary care physician, but little did I know there would be many more doctors to come. After trying various ointments and antibiotics, the pediatrician referred us to a local dermatologist because she was unable to diagnose or effectively treat the condition. The dermatologist attempted several other medications to no avail. Following additional allergy testing and consults with other providers in the practice, I was referred to University of Vermont dermatology. Despite all these visits, three quarters of my face was covered by a bright red bumpy rash. Several months passed as doctor after doctor at UVM unsuccessfully tried to treat me even sending my case to a consultation roundtable of providers. Surprisingly, their lack of familiarity with my darker skin and the condition proved to be an obstacle to a diagnosis. My parents and I felt defeated. I was tired of doctors telling me that it was just acne, eczema or dermatitis, when none of the treatments for those conditions were working. Almost a year later, on the verge of being referred to Boston, the rash finally started to fade away on its own. What never faded away was the trauma I endured sitting in all of those doctors’ offices as they took pictures, measured and whispered to each other – treating me as a curiosity rather than a scared and embarrassed kid. White doctors were not used to seeing conditions on skin different from their own or the vast majority of the patients they treated. It became apparent from some of their own statements, that my blackness was the reason I couldn't get a definite diagnosis and appropriate treatment. Looking back, it is apparent to me how the lack of diversity and awareness can impact the quality of care. This experience informed my interest in a career in nursing and dermatology. My ultimate goal is to become a Dermatology NP so that I can give all patients, but specifically people of color, the care that I never received. Beyond being able to diagnose conditions that look different on different races, cultural backgrounds, and skin tones, I want all my future patients to feel human and seen. As I grow into myself and find my voice, I want to use it to walk beside people who are struggling and advocate for justice in the communities I live and work. I want to ensure that my family and friends, as well as my future patients, will all have a community in which they can feel safe and heard. I am excited to use my challenges and triumphs, big and small, to provide thorough, thoughtful, sensitive and equitable care.

One morning when I was in the fourth grade, I woke up with what seemed like a rash around my mouth and eyes. My parents and I didn't think much of it at the time because I had a significant amount of allergies and reactions to various things. A few days went by and my parents started to become concerned. The bright red rash had worsened now covering all round my eyes, nose and mouth. My mother made an appointment with our primary care physician, but little did I know there would be many more doctors to come. After trying various ointments and antibiotics, the pediatrician referred us to a local dermatologist because she was unable to diagnose or effectively treat the condition. The dermatologist attempted several other medications to no avail. Following additional allergy testing and consults with other providers in the practice, I was referred to University of Vermont dermatology. Despite all these visits, three quarters of my face was covered by a bright red bumpy rash. Several months passed as doctor after doctor at UVM unsuccessfully tried to treat me even sending my case to a consultation roundtable of providers. Surprisingly, their lack of familiarity with my darker skin and the condition proved to be an obstacle to a diagnosis. My parents and I felt defeated. I was tired of doctors telling me that it was just acne, eczema or dermatitis, when none of the treatments for those conditions were working. Almost a year later, on the verge of being referred to Boston, the rash finally started to fade away on its own. What never faded away was the trauma I endured sitting in all of those doctors’ offices as they took pictures, measured and whispered to each other – treating me as a curiosity rather than a scared and embarrassed kid. White doctors were not used to seeing conditions on skin different from their own or the vast majority of the patients they treated. It became apparent from some of their own statements, that my blackness was the reason I couldn't get a definite diagnosis and appropriate treatment. Looking back, it is apparent to me how the lack of diversity and awareness can impact the quality of care. This experience informed my interest in a career in nursing and dermatology. My ultimate goal is to become a Dermatology NP so that I can give all patients, but specifically people of color, the care that I never received. Beyond being able to diagnose conditions that look different on different races, cultural backgrounds, and skin tones, I want all my future patients to feel human and seen. As I grow into myself and find my voice, I want to use it to walk beside people who are struggling and advocate for justice in the communities I live and work. I want to ensure that my family and friends, as well as my future patients, will all have a community in which they can feel safe and heard. I am excited to use my challenges and triumphs, big and small, to provide thorough, thoughtful, sensitive and equitable care.