As a cancer survivor, healthcare student, and aspiring physician, I understand the deep connection between wellness, environment, and equity. Over the next five years, I plan to create a positive environmental impact in my community—and beyond—by addressing public health disparities through a wellness-centered lens that combines health education, accessibility, and advocacy. Growing up, I saw firsthand how people in underserved communities often lack access to quality healthcare, nutrition education, and preventive resources. This issue is especially prevalent in communities of color, where systemic barriers have led to higher rates of chronic illnesses, including cancer, diabetes, and hypertension. Through my education in public health and psychology, along with my certification as a Clinical Medical Assistant and experience as a pharmacy technician, I’ve come to realize that true wellness starts long before someone walks into a clinic—it begins in homes, schools, food systems, and neighborhoods. In the next five years, I will work toward building a more health-conscious, environmentally aware, and wellness-driven community in two key ways: health education and accessible preventive care. First, I aim to create localized wellness workshops in underserved neighborhoods that focus on cancer awareness, nutrition, mental health, and disease prevention. These workshops would partner with local schools, clinics, and grocery stores to provide both education and resources—like fresh produce boxes, health screenings, and bilingual informational materials. Many environmental health risks, such as air and water pollution or food deserts, disproportionately affect Black and Brown communities. By educating individuals about how environmental factors influence their health, I hope to empower families to make healthier, more informed choices—and advocate for systemic changes where needed. Second, I plan to support digital access to wellness. I envision developing an online wellness platform or app specifically for marginalized communities that offers culturally relevant health information, free virtual check-ins with medical assistants or health coaches, and educational content on nutrition, physical activity, and chronic illness management. With many people in these communities working multiple jobs or lacking transportation, technology can bridge the gap and extend wellness far beyond traditional clinics. Globally, I will continue to advocate for equitable access to healthcare and environmental justice by collaborating with nonprofit organizations that focus on global health disparities. Whether through research, volunteer work, or public speaking, I want to be a voice for underrepresented patients whose wellness has been overshadowed by poverty, pollution, and policy failures. My mission is deeply personal. When I was diagnosed with cancer, I was fortunate to have access to great care. Many others, especially those in my community, don’t have the same resources. I carry that awareness with me every day and it drives me to be not just a future physician, but a change agent. Through wellness innovation, community outreach, and digital accessibility, I will strive to transform health outcomes for those most affected by environmental and structural inequities.

Cancer is not just a disease—it’s a global crisis that affects nearly every family, community, and healthcare system in the world. It does not discriminate by age, race, or socioeconomic background, and its impact stretches far beyond the physical. Cancer devastates emotional well-being, drains financial resources, and shatters the sense of normalcy that many people take for granted. I know this not just through statistics, but from personal experience. I was diagnosed with Stage 3 Thyroid Cancer when I was just 14 years old. At an age when most kids were worried about high school classes and teenage friendships, I was navigating CT scans, surgeries, and the emotional weight of hearing, “You have cancer.” My world flipped upside down. During the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, I faced isolation and fear, not just from the virus, but from the stigma of being sick. I went silent in class, lost touch with friends, and began to see how illness could make you feel invisible—even as it consumed your body and mind. But that diagnosis did something else: it lit a fire in me. It taught me the importance of early detection, compassionate care, and community support. It showed me the power of healthcare professionals—not just in treating disease, but in restoring hope. It was in those hospital rooms, post-op recovery chairs, and quiet conversations with nurses that I realized I wanted to pursue a career in medicine. Cancer is one of the leading causes of death worldwide, with over 10 million people dying from it each year. Despite technological advancements and growing awareness, there are still massive gaps in access to care, particularly in underresourced communities. Many people do not have access to routine screenings, preventative education, or even basic treatment. This inequality contributes to late-stage diagnoses and poorer outcomes, particularly among marginalized populations. This is where I see both the problem—and the opportunity. After recovering, I founded the American Cancer Society chapter at my high school. I wanted to use my story not just as a symbol of survival, but as a catalyst for change. We hosted awareness campaigns, educational events, and fundraisers. I also volunteered at the same hospital where I was treated, this time on the oncology floor, supporting patients who were undergoing chemotherapy and treatment. The experience was humbling. It gave me a firsthand look at the ongoing emotional and physical toll that cancer takes, and further solidified my commitment to healthcare. Later, I earned my Clinical Medical Assistant certification and volunteered at a free clinic serving low-income and immigrant patients. I learned that healthcare inequity—especially in cancer care—is not just a statistic. It’s real. Patients came in after years of avoiding check-ups because they couldn’t afford insurance or were afraid of their immigration status being questioned. Many had no idea how serious their health conditions were until it was too late. It broke my heart—and strengthened my purpose. Today, I’m pursuing a Bachelor of Science in Public Health with a minor in Psychology. I work as a certified pharmacy technician and shadow a physician to gain as much insight as I can into the world of medicine. My long-term goal is to become a physician who specializes in oncology or community medicine, working to expand access to early screening, patient education, and culturally competent care—especially in underserved populations. Cancer may have disrupted my life, but it also gave me direction. It taught me that healthcare is not just about treating symptoms; it’s about restoring humanity. Through my career in medicine, I want to fight cancer not just with science, but with equity, compassion, and advocacy.

When I was diagnosed with Stage 3 Thyroid Cancer at just 14 years old, I didn't fully understand how much it would change my life—not just physically, but emotionally, socially, and spiritually. While many teenagers were navigating high school crushes, football games, and sleepovers, I was navigating surgery, medical scans, and the looming fear of what life after cancer might look like. But what that experience gave me, beyond hardship, was clarity: I wanted to be a doctor. As a ninth grader at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, I was not only dealing with a serious medical condition, but also with complete social isolation. My diagnosis forced me to withdraw—both physically from my peers, and emotionally from the world around me. I was terrified of being labeled as the “cancer kid,” and I carried a quiet shame about being sick. I stopped speaking in class, my grades slipped, and I lost touch with friends I’d known since elementary school. It was a dark time in my life, but looking back, it was also the foundation of the purpose I live by today. After surviving cancer, I made a promise to myself: I would turn my pain into purpose. I founded the American Cancer Society chapter at my high school, hoping to build a space where students could support those facing cancer, learn about prevention, and erase the stigma I once felt so deeply. I led events, organized awareness campaigns, and started to see that even as a teenager, I could make a real impact. My work didn't stop there. The summer after my junior year, I returned to the very hospital where I had been treated—not as a patient, but as a volunteer. I worked in the Center for Cancer and Blood Disorders (CCBD), welcoming new patients, offering assistance to staff, and spending time with patients and families during some of the most vulnerable moments of their lives. For me, this experience was full circle. I had once sat in that waiting room scared and unsure, and now I was able to bring peace to others going through the same thing. That same year, I earned my Clinical Medical Assistant certification and began volunteering at a free clinic that serves uninsured immigrants and low-income families. The patients I worked with often had no access to regular medical care, sometimes waiting months just to see a doctor for routine needs. I took vitals, prepared patients for appointments, and offered a listening ear whenever possible. That experience opened my eyes to the many ways the healthcare system fails those who are already struggling. It reinforced my desire to serve communities who are ignored or underrepresented. Now, as a college student majoring in Public Health and minoring in Psychology, I am building the foundation for my future in medicine. I currently work as a certified pharmacy technician and am actively shadowing a physician, learning the day-to-day reality of medical practice while continuing to engage with patients from all walks of life. These experiences deepen my commitment to becoming a physician who is not only skilled, but deeply compassionate and community-centered. While I have not personally been incarcerated, my understanding of suffering, isolation, and rebuilding from trauma has shaped the way I view justice, health, and service. I know how it feels to be overlooked, to be labeled, and to be unsure of the future. I know how it feels to sit in a hospital bed wondering, Why me? I also know what it means to fight your way back and to find meaning in the struggle. I believe that achieving my educational goals will allow me to serve communities that are often forgotten—including those impacted by incarceration. Incarceration doesn't just affect the person behind bars—it touches families, disrupts childhoods, limits access to housing and jobs, and creates lasting trauma. As a future doctor, I want to create safe, healing spaces for formerly incarcerated individuals and their families. I want to be a physician who understands the role of trauma in physical health, and who advocates for systemic changes that promote healing, not punishment. My ultimate goal is to open a community health center that provides affordable, trauma-informed care to underserved populations—including those affected by incarceration, immigration challenges, and poverty. I want to create a space where no one feels judged for their past, where healthcare is a right, not a privilege, and where stories like mine—and so many others—are met with empathy, not pity. Receiving the Francis E. Moore Prime Time Ministries Scholarship would be an incredible support on my journey. It would ease the financial burden of college and allow me to continue gaining experience in clinical settings while maintaining my academic performance. But more importantly, it would symbolize a shared commitment to restoring dignity to those who have been marginalized. In every patient I meet, every shadowing experience, every textbook I read, I carry my story—and the stories of people who haven’t had the same support I’ve had. I’m not just pursuing a degree. I’m building a future rooted in justice, empathy, and service. And I’m doing it for every person who’s ever felt forgotten or left behind.

If selected, I would use my scholarship funds to support my education at Austin College, where I am currently pursuing a Bachelor of Science in Public Health with a minor in Psychology. This financial support would help cover the cost of tuition, textbooks, laboratory fees, and other academic resources that are essential to my success as a student. With less financial burden, I would be able to focus more fully on my coursework and continue exploring hands-on learning opportunities that are shaping my future in healthcare. My interest in healthcare is deeply rooted in the experiences I’ve had through clinical volunteering, pharmacy technician roles, and shadowing opportunities. I’ve worked in environments ranging from retail pharmacies to family practices, pediatric clinics, and hospital departments like oncology, emergency care, and labor and delivery. These experiences have helped me gain practical skills, improve patient communication, and understand the diverse needs of individuals across healthcare settings. They have also reaffirmed my commitment to pursuing a career where I can provide compassionate, accessible care—especially to underserved populations. This scholarship would allow me to continue seeking these opportunities without worrying about how I’ll afford my education. I am committed to making the most of my time at Austin College, both academically and professionally. I plan to use my education to become a well-rounded healthcare provider who understands both the science of medicine and the social factors that influence health. Your support would make a meaningful difference in helping me reach that goal.

My name is Ananya Kothamasu, and I am a pre-med student at Austin College majoring in Public Health with a minor in Biology. I’ve always been curious about medicine, but it wasn’t until I was diagnosed with stage three thyroid cancer at age 14 that I truly understood the transformative power of healthcare. Facing a cancer diagnosis during the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic was isolating and terrifying. Yet through that experience, I discovered not just my own resilience, but also my purpose: to become a physician who heals not only with knowledge, but also with empathy and understanding. That experience shaped everything I’ve pursued since. I founded an American Cancer Society chapter at my high school to raise awareness and support for cancer patients and survivors. I’ve volunteered in hospitals—returning to the same one where I was treated, but this time as a helper, not a patient—welcoming others who were facing what I once did. I earned my Clinical Medical Assistant certification while still in high school and began volunteering at a free clinic that serves uninsured immigrant patients. I’ve also worked as a pharmacy technician and shadowed physicians across pediatric, emergency, labor & delivery, and oncology departments. These hands-on experiences have helped me better understand both the science of medicine and the deeply human side of it. In all of these roles, I’ve seen how access to healthcare, quality of care, and compassion can vary greatly. That’s why I’ve chosen to study Public Health alongside pre-med: I want to understand not just how to treat individual illnesses, but how to improve community-wide health outcomes. My goal is to become a physician who serves underserved communities, particularly immigrant and low-income populations who often face barriers to care. I want to advocate for patients, educate communities, and provide preventive care to reduce long-term disparities. My impact won’t stop at individual patients. I want to be a leader in healthcare who builds stronger, more equitable systems. Whether that means improving communication in clinical settings, creating culturally competent care models, or supporting health education programs, I hope to serve as a bridge between medical science and the real-world needs of diverse communities. Ultimately, everything I do is rooted in gratitude and hope. I’m grateful for the doctors, nurses, and volunteers who helped me during my hardest moments—and I hope to pass that same care forward. Through medicine, service, and advocacy, I aim to uplift others the way I was once uplifted. I don’t just want to be a doctor—I want to be someone who reminds patients they’re not alone, no matter how dark things may seem.

The 2025 World Happiness Report, published by the University of Oxford's Wellbeing Research Centre, offers a comprehensive analysis of global well-being, drawing from the Gallup World Poll's extensive data. This year's report emphasizes the theme of "caring and sharing," exploring how acts of kindness and social connections influence happiness worldwide. One of the most striking revelations from the report is the consistent presence of Latin American countries in the top ten rankings for "Positive Emotions." Despite facing economic and political challenges, nations like Costa Rica and Mexico have secured positions in the top ten, highlighting the profound impact of cultural and social factors on emotional well-being. Conversely, countries such as Afghanistan, Lebanon, and Sierra Leone rank highest in "Negative Emotions," underscoring the detrimental effects of conflict and instability on mental health. These findings challenge the conventional assumption that economic prosperity directly correlates with happiness. While wealth can provide comfort, the report underscores the significance of social support, freedom, and generosity in fostering positive emotions. For instance, the United States, despite its economic stature, has dropped to its lowest-ever ranking at 24th place, attributed to factors like social isolation and declining community ties . Among the various parameters analyzed, "Social Support" emerges as a pivotal factor influencing happiness. The report emphasizes that having someone to count on during times of need significantly boosts life satisfaction. This insight resonates deeply with my academic pursuits in public health and biology, where the importance of community and interpersonal relationships is paramount. As I progress along my educational path, these findings will profoundly shape my approach to work-life balance. Recognizing the value of social connections, I aim to prioritize building and maintaining meaningful relationships, both personally and professionally. In the realm of public health, this translates to fostering community engagement and emphasizing the role of social support systems in healthcare delivery. Furthermore, the report's emphasis on "caring and sharing" aligns with my aspiration to become a physician who not only treats illnesses but also addresses the holistic well-being of individuals. By integrating these insights into my future practice, I hope to contribute to a healthcare environment that values empathy, community, and holistic care. In conclusion, the 2025 World Happiness Report offers invaluable insights into the multifaceted nature of happiness, challenging traditional metrics and highlighting the profound impact of social connections. As I continue my journey in the field of public health and medicine, these findings will serve as a guiding framework, emphasizing the importance of empathy, community, and holistic well-being in both personal and professional realms.

From a young age, I’ve been curious about how the world works—not just in a scientific sense, but in a human one. My love of learning began with simple questions: Why do some communities have better health outcomes than others? Why do certain diseases affect some populations more severely? Over time, these questions led me down an academic path where I could seek answers, challenge assumptions, and grow both intellectually and personally. Today, as a Public Health major and Biology minor at Austin College on the pre-med track, my passion for learning has become the foundation for who I am and who I aspire to be. Inside the classroom, I’ve found that the intersection of science and society is where my curiosity thrives most. Studying Public Health has introduced me to structural and systemic issues that shape health far beyond the walls of hospitals and clinics. Concepts like health equity, social determinants of health, and epidemiology have challenged me to think beyond individual biology and look at the broader systems that affect well-being. Biology, meanwhile, has provided me with a microscopic lens through which to understand disease and the human body. The combination of these disciplines has taught me that good medicine requires not only knowledge of cells and organs, but also empathy for communities and insight into the policies that govern care. Outside the classroom, my experiences volunteering at clinics and participating in service projects have deepened my understanding of healthcare disparities and further fueled my desire to make a difference. Working with patients from underserved backgrounds has helped me see how language barriers, transportation challenges, and socioeconomic status all contribute to health outcomes. These real-world encounters have transformed abstract academic concepts into personal missions. They’ve made learning not just an academic pursuit, but a lived responsibility. What keeps me motivated is not just the desire to earn a degree, but the excitement of discovering new perspectives and using that knowledge to help others. Learning, for me, is not limited to textbooks or lecture halls. It’s in conversations with patients, community members, and mentors. It’s in the moments when I have to confront my assumptions, sit with discomfort, and grow from it. This mindset has shaped me into someone who is not afraid of complexity, who sees challenges as invitations to learn more deeply and act more compassionately. Looking forward, my love of learning will guide me through medical school and beyond. I see myself becoming a physician who not only treats illness but also advocates for better systems and healthier communities. Whether it’s through public health initiatives, policy work, or community outreach, I hope to always remain a student—curious, open-minded, and committed to learning from the world around me. In a world that is constantly evolving, I believe that curiosity is one of the most powerful tools we have. It keeps us asking better questions, seeking better answers, and striving to make a greater impact. For me, learning is not just a path to a career—it’s a way of life.

It was February 16, 2020. The feeling of uncertainty and overwhelmingness crossed my mind as my family and I headed to the hospital. My legs felt jittery, and my hands were sweaty as the doctor walked in. At that moment, when the doctor spoke the four words I didn't want to hear, I choked back tears and cleared my throat. My parents, in shock, started to cry, and my sister looked at me with pity. And all I could think about was, does this mean I need chemotherapy? Does that mean I’ll be bald? So many thoughts rushed through my mind, and I began to sob quietly, growing louder and louder as the seconds passed. All that echoed throughout my thoughts was the doctor's voice saying, “Thyroid Cancer stage three.” A few months later, it was finally my surgery day, the day I dreaded the most. As I sat in the hospital bed, all prepped for surgery, all I could think was: Why me? Why do I have to go through all this? Why not somebody else? When the staff took me to the operating room, the smell of bleach made me feel nauseous. The beeping of the machines around me and seeing the doctors rushing through the halls felt like the world was spinning around me. When I woke up after surgery, all I could think about was the people who helped me get through the surgery and allowed me to become cancer-free. At that moment, I learned that I wanted to help people the same way my doctors helped me. Throughout my high school career, I started a club at my school inspired by my cancer experience, American Cancer Society on Campus. I started this club with the goal of helping current cancer patients and also educating the student population at school about different types of cancer. I was proud of myself when I realized I had created a community of people passionate about aiding future cancer patients, current cancer patients, and, most importantly, future cancer survivors. Over the summer, I returned to the same hospital where I was treated —only this time, as a summer volunteer, not a patient. I was given the opportunity to welcome patients with a smile on my face, the same way I was greeted on my big day. I worked on the CCBD (Center for Cancer and Blood Disorders) floor. Wanting to do more for the community while still in high school, I got my Medical Assistant certification. I started practicing at a free clinic, where we treat patients who are immigrants and don't have medical insurance. I go help out at this clinic whenever I am free and help out as much as possible. Through my different experiences in healthcare, I realized that I want to become a doctor and give back to my community to the maximum. As a woman who hopes to have a future in the healthcare field, my aspiration is to contribute significantly to the well-being of individuals and communities. I aim to bring a unique perspective to healthcare, advocating for inclusivity and personalized care. By fostering empathy and understanding, I hope to create a supportive environment for patients, ensuring they feel heard and valued. Additionally, I am committed to breaking down gender barriers within the profession, inspiring other women to pursue careers in healthcare and promoting diversity in leadership roles. Ultimately, my goal is to be a catalyst for positive change, driving advancements in patient care and contributing to the overall improvement of healthcare systems.

It was February 16, 2020. The feeling of uncertainty and overwhelmingness crossed my mind as my family and I headed to the hospital. My legs felt jittery, and my hands were sweaty as the doctor walked in. At that moment, when the doctor spoke the four words I didn't want to hear, I choked back tears and cleared my throat. My parents, in shock, started to cry, and my sister looked at me with pity. And all I could think about was, does this mean I need chemotherapy? Does that mean I’ll be bald? So many thoughts rushed through my mind, and I began to sob quietly, growing louder and louder as the seconds passed. All that echoed throughout my thoughts was the doctor's voice saying, “Thyroid Cancer stage three.” It felt like walking into a dark room with no light. As a ninth grader stuck in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, I was already lost, but the diagnosis created a whole new realm of darkness. Covid was at its peak, leaving me with no contact with anyone. My grades started to fluctuate. I stopped speaking up in classes and lost connections with my childhood friends. Keeping and making friends become nearly impossible due to the fear of being called the “cancer kid.” A few months later, it was finally my surgery day, the day I dreaded the most. As I sat in the hospital bed, all prepped for surgery, all I could think was: Why me? Why do I have to go through all this? Why not somebody else? When the staff took me to the operating room, the smell of bleach made me feel nauseous. The beeping of the machines around me and seeing the doctors rushing through the halls felt like the world was spinning around me. When I woke up after surgery, all I could think about was the people who helped me get through the surgery and allowed me to become cancer-free. At that moment, I learned that I wanted to help people the same way my doctors helped me. A couple of years later, I started a club at my school inspired by my cancer experience, American Cancer Society on Campus. I started this club with the goal of helping current cancer patients and also educating the student population at school about different types of cancer. I was proud of myself when I realized I had created a community of people passionate about aiding future cancer patients, current cancer patients, and, most importantly, future cancer survivors. Over the summer of my junior year, I returned to the same hospital where I was treated —only this time, as a summer volunteer, not a patient. I was given the opportunity to welcome patients with a smile on my face, the same way I was greeted on my big day. I worked on the CCBD (Center for Cancer and Blood Disorders) floor, where I saw many critical cancer patients. All around me, patients were going into chemotherapy while others were happily going into remission. I will forever be grateful for not having to go through those experiences. Wanting to do more for the community while still in high school, I got my Medical Assistant certification. I started practicing at a free clinic, where we treat patients who are immigrants and don't have medical insurance. I go help out at this clinic whenever I am free and help out as much as possible. Through my different experiences in healthcare, I realized that I want to become a doctor and give back to my community to the maximum.

The pursuit of a biology or public health degree leading to a Doctorate in Osteopathic Medicine (DO) holds profound significance for me, extending beyond a mere career choice. It is a commitment rooted in a life-altering experience that unfolded during my early high school years. Faced with the formidable challenge of cancer, this chapter became the catalyst for my unwavering dedication to making a lasting impact in healthcare. Encountering the complexities of illness firsthand ignited a passion within me to contribute meaningfully to the health field. During this period, I had the privilege of witnessing the transformative power of healthcare professionals, especially doctors and surgeons. Their ability to heal, comfort, and instill resilience left an indelible mark on my aspirations, shaping my vision for the future. Choosing a degree in biology or public health is a deliberate and strategic step towards gaining a comprehensive understanding of human health and disease. These disciplines serve as the bedrock, providing the foundational knowledge essential for a career in medicine. My goal extends beyond comprehending the biological underpinnings of health; it encompasses a genuine desire to explore the broader public health landscape, recognizing the interconnectedness of individual well-being and community health. The dream of becoming a doctor, deeply ingrained in my heart since childhood, has evolved into a driving force, fueled by a profound desire to be a source of hope and healing for others. My own health challenges during those formative years made me appreciate the resilience and compassion of medical professionals, inspiring me to channel my experiences into a commitment to serve others with empathy and unwavering dedication. Attaining a Doctorate in Osteopathic Medicine represents the culmination of my academic and personal journey. The osteopathic approach, emphasizing holistic care, seamlessly aligns with my vision of practicing medicine. My passion goes beyond merely treating ailments; it encompasses a genuine commitment to addressing the broader aspects of well-being that contribute to a healthy and fulfilling life. In essence, my journey from a cancer survivor to a future doctor serves as a testament to the transformative power of healthcare. Through the lens of this scholarship, I aspire to advance my education, realizing my dream of making a positive impact in the lives of others. Your support is not only instrumental in propelling my academic journey but also contributes to the realization of a lifelong dream to serve and heal, inspired by the profound experiences that have shaped my path. On February 16, 2020, uncertainty and overwhelming emotions enveloped my family as we headed to the hospital. The doctor's words, revealing a diagnosis of Thyroid Cancer stage three, felt like stepping into a dark room with no light. As a ninth grader navigating the COVID-19 pandemic, I was already lost, but the diagnosis plunged me into a new realm of darkness. Covid's peak left me isolated, impacting my academic performance and hindering connections with friends. The fear of being labeled the "cancer kid" made keeping and making friends nearly impossible. Months later, on my surgery day, the day I dreaded the most, questions swirled in my mind. The smell of bleach in the operating room made me nauseous, and the world seemed to spin around me. Waking up after surgery, I realized I wanted to help people as my doctors helped me. This realization led to the creation of the American Cancer Society on Campus, a club aimed at supporting current cancer patients and educating students about different cancer types. During the summer of my junior year, I returned to the hospital where I was treated, this time as a summer volunteer. Welcoming patients with a smile, I worked on the CCBD floor, witnessing critical cancer patients undergoing chemotherapy and others happily entering remission. Grateful for not having to go through those experiences myself, I sought more ways to contribute, obtaining a Medical Assistant certification and practicing at a free clinic for immigrants without medical insurance. Through these experiences in healthcare, I discovered my passion for becoming a doctor and giving back to my community. The degree I am pursuing is not just a path to a career; it is a continuation of my journey, fueled by a deep-seated commitment to serve and heal. My experiences as a cancer survivor and a dedicated volunteer underscore the profound connection between my personal journey and my passion for medicine, making this pursuit not just an academic endeavor but a heartfelt mission to make a meaningful impact.

It was February 16, 2020. The feeling of uncertainty and overwhelmingness crossed my mind as my family and I headed to the hospital. My legs felt jittery, and my hands were sweaty as the doctor walked in. At that moment, when the doctor spoke the four words I didn't want to hear, I choked back tears and cleared my throat. My parents, in shock, started to cry, and my sister looked at me with pity. And all I could think about was, does this mean I need chemotherapy? Does that mean I’ll be bald? So many thoughts rushed through my mind, and I began to sob quietly, growing louder and louder as the seconds passed. All that echoed throughout my thoughts was the doctor's voice saying, “Thyroid Cancer stage three.” It felt like walking into a dark room with no light. As a ninth grader stuck in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, I was already lost, but the diagnosis created a whole new realm of darkness. Covid was at its peak, leaving me with no contact with anyone. My grades started to fluctuate. I stopped speaking up in classes and lost connections with my childhood friends. Keeping and making friends become nearly impossible due to the fear of being called the “cancer kid.” A few months later, it was finally my surgery day, the day I dreaded the most. As I sat in the hospital bed, all prepped for surgery, all I could think was: Why me? Why do I have to go through all this? Why not somebody else? When the staff took me to the operating room, the smell of bleach made me feel nauseous. The beeping of the machines around me and seeing the doctors rushing through the halls felt like the world was spinning around me. When I woke up after surgery, all I could think about was the people who helped me get through the surgery and allowed me to become cancer-free. At that moment, I learned that I wanted to help people the same way my doctors helped me. Throughout my high school career, I have started a club ACS, which aims to raise money for people struggling with cancer. Along with that, over the summer, I did an internship at my children's hospital where I worked on the CCBD (Center for Cancer and Blood Disorders) floor, where I saw many critical cancer patients. Wanting to do more for the community while still in high school, I got my Medical Assistant certification. I started practicing at a free clinic, where we treat patients who are immigrants and don't have medical insurance. I go help out at this clinic whenever I am free and help out as much as possible. Through my different experiences in healthcare, I realized that I want to become a doctor and give back to my community to the maximum. I am passionately applying for this scholarship, recognizing its commitment to cultivating a community of empowered women in STEM. My aspiration to become a doctor is rooted in a deep-seated commitment to leveraging knowledge, nurturing curiosity, and contributing meaningfully to the STEM field, particularly in the realm of healthcare.The journey toward becoming a doctor requires a solid foundation in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics — the pillars of STEM.

It was February 16, 2020. The feeling of uncertainty and overwhelmingness crossed my mind as my family and I headed to the hospital. My legs felt jittery, and my hands were sweaty as the doctor walked in. At that moment, when the doctor spoke the four words I didn't want to hear, I choked back tears and cleared my throat. My parents, in shock, started to cry, and my sister looked at me with pity. And all I could think about was, does this mean I need chemotherapy? Does that mean I’ll be bald? So many thoughts rushed through my mind, and I began to sob quietly, growing louder and louder as the seconds passed. All that echoed throughout my thoughts was the doctor's voice saying, “Thyroid Cancer stage three.” It felt like walking into a dark room with no light. As a ninth grader stuck in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, I was already lost, but the diagnosis created a whole new realm of darkness. Covid was at its peak, leaving me with no contact with anyone. My grades started to fluctuate. I stopped speaking up in classes and lost connections with my childhood friends. Keeping and making friends become nearly impossible due to the fear of being called the “cancer kid.” A few months later, it was finally my surgery day, the day I dreaded the most. As I sat in the hospital bed, all prepped for surgery, all I could think was: Why me? Why do I have to go through all this? Why not somebody else? When the staff took me to the operating room, the smell of bleach made me feel nauseous. The beeping of the machines around me and seeing the doctors rushing through the halls felt like the world was spinning around me. When I woke up after surgery, all I could think about was the people who helped me get through the surgery and allowed me to become cancer-free. At that moment, I learned that I wanted to help people the same way my doctors helped me. A couple of years later, I started a club at my school inspired by my cancer experience, American Cancer Society on Campus. I started this club with the goal of helping current cancer patients and also educating the student population at school about different types of cancer. I was proud of myself when I realized I had created a community of people passionate about aiding future cancer patients, current cancer patients, and most importantly future cancer survivors. Over the summer of my junior year, I returned to the same hospital where I was treated —only this time, as a summer volunteer, not a patient. I was given the opportunity to welcome patients with a smile on my face, the same way I was greeted on my big day. I worked on the CCBD (Center for Cancer and Blood Disorders) floor, where I saw many critical cancer patients. All around me, patients were going into chemotherapy while others were happily going into remission. I will forever be grateful for not having to go through those experiences. Wanting to do more for the community while still in high school, I got my Medical Assistant certification. I started practicing at a free clinic, where we treat patients who are immigrants and don't have medical insurance. I go help out at this clinic whenever I am free and help out as much as possible. Through my different experiences in healthcare, I realized that I want to become a doctor and give back to my community to the maximum.

It was February 16, 2020. The feeling of uncertainty and overwhelmingness crossed my mind as my family and I headed to the hospital. My legs felt jittery, and my hands were sweaty as the doctor walked in. At that moment, when the doctor spoke the four words I didn't want to hear, I choked back tears and cleared my throat. My parents, in shock, started to cry, and my sister looked at me with pity. And all I could think about was, does this mean I need chemotherapy? Does that mean I’ll be bald? So many thoughts rushed through my mind, and I began to sob quietly, growing louder and louder as the seconds passed. All that echoed throughout my thoughts was the doctor's voice saying, “Thyroid Cancer stage three.” It felt like walking into a dark room with no light. As a ninth grader stuck in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, I was already lost, but the diagnosis created a whole new realm of darkness. Covid was at its peak, leaving me with no contact with anyone. My grades started to fluctuate. I stopped speaking up in classes and lost connections with my childhood friends. Keeping and making friends become nearly impossible due to the fear of being called the “cancer kid.” A few months later, it was finally my surgery day, the day I dreaded the most. As I sat in the hospital bed, all prepped for surgery, all I could think was: Why me? Why do I have to go through all this? Why not somebody else? When the staff took me to the operating room, the smell of bleach made me feel nauseous. The beeping of the machines around me and seeing the doctors rushing through the halls felt like the world was spinning around me. When I woke up after surgery, all I could think about was the people who helped me get through the surgery and allowed me to become cancer-free. At that moment, I learned that I wanted to help people the same way my doctors helped me. A couple of years later, I started a club at my school inspired by my cancer experience, American Cancer Society on Campus. I started this club with the goal of helping current cancer patients and also educating the student population at school about different types of cancer. I was proud of myself when I realized I had created a community of people passionate about aiding future cancer patients, current cancer patients, and, most importantly, future cancer survivors. Over the summer of my junior year, I returned to the same hospital where I was treated —only this time, as a summer volunteer, not a patient. I was given the opportunity to welcome patients with a smile on my face, the same way I was greeted on my big day. I worked on the CCBD (Center for Cancer and Blood Disorders) floor, where I saw many critical cancer patients. All around me, patients were going into chemotherapy while others were happily going into remission. I will forever be grateful for not having to go through those experiences. Wanting to do more for the community while still in high school, I got my Medical Assistant certification. I started practicing at a free clinic, where we treat patients who are immigrants and don't have medical insurance. I go help out at this clinic whenever I am free and help out as much as possible. Through my different experiences in healthcare, I realized that I want to become a doctor and give back to my community to the maximum.