When I look out my classroom window, I see thousands of puffy, white balls cover the horizon: cotton. Cotton represents my rural background. I never had the same extracurricular opportunities as other students and had the impression that students from big cities were the only ones capable of pursuing privileged opportunities. Growing up where crop dusters were more common than college recruiters, I learned early that opportunity isn't given; it's grown. This understanding shaped my approach to community. When my grandfather was dying of cancer overseas, our limited resources couldn't bring him to the U.S. for treatment. That experience ignited my commitment to making healthcare innovations accessible to underserved communities like mine. Now at UT Austin studying Biomedical Engineering, I'm turning that commitment into action through Alzheimer's research that could one day help rural families facing neurodegenerative diseases. My work in Professor Hemachandra Reddy's lab taught me that real solutions require collaboration. It was over dinner on a stormy November evening in junior year when my parents revealed to me that my bloodline had the genetic presence of APOE4, an allele regarded to increase one's chance of developing AD. At that moment, I felt shocked and scared, at first believing I was a victim of my "ancestors' curse." This personal connection drove me to contribute meaningfully to the lab's work. Professor Reddy allowed me to go one step further and lead my own project, resulting in a first-author publication on how damaged cholinergic receptors in the brain of AD patients could be systematically treated by magnetically guided nanoparticles encapsulated with acetylcholinesterase inhibitors, the currently used drug for early-onset AD. This research proved that someone from an under-resourced background could pioneer solutions for complex medical challenges. After publishing a first-author paper on nanoparticles' role in bypassing the blood-brain barrier of Alzheimer's Disease patients to deliver therapeutics efficiently, I began envisioning a career for myself in the field. I wish to start my own medical technology business, focusing on treating neurodegenerative diseases. This vision now drives my work with UT Austin's Longhorn Neurotech team, where we develop EEG-based headsets for brain-computer interfaces—technology that could restore communication for Alzheimer's patients. I've seen how health disparities affect families like mine. Two of my grandparents were lost to Alzheimer's, and that genetic risk I carry fuels my work to democratize medical innovation. Through my entrepreneurship minor, I'm learning to bridge the gap between laboratory breakthroughs and affordable patient care, because no matter how advanced the science, it only matters if it reaches those who need it most. My vision extends beyond the lab. Now as Director of Research and Design for Longhorn Neurotech, I've built mentorship programs that give students the same transformative opportunities Dr. Reddy gave me. Last semester, my team trained 30 first-generation undergraduates in EEG headset development, the same technology we're adapting to help Alzheimer's patients communicate. When I present our research at conferences, I emphasize how nanoparticle delivery systems could reduce treatment costs for underserved clinics. It's been 118 years since we discovered Alzheimer's, and countless victims have been lost. But through my work, combining biomedical engineering with community-focused entrepreneurship, I seek to forge new headlines: "Scientists have found a new, easily administered drug capable of reversing the progression of Alzheimer's Disease." More importantly, I want to ensure that when that day comes, the treatment reaches the rural hospitals and underfunded clinics where patients like my grandparents sought help. I may leave my rural origins for college and beyond, but I'll always chuckle when I see a stray piece of cotton in the air.

Imagine waking up one day and not recognizing your face in the mirror. You’ve forgotten the names of your loved ones, the places you’ve visited, and the memories you’ve made—the culprit: Alzheimer’s Disease (AD). It was over dinner on a stormy November evening in junior year when my parents revealed to me that my bloodline had the genetic presence of APOE4, an allele suspected of increasing one's chance of developing AD. At that moment, I felt shocked and scared, at first believing I was a victim of my “ancestors’ curse." Curious to investigate, I started searching for answers, eventually realizing that science controlled my destiny, not fate. Driven by fear and hope, I sought an opportunity to contribute to the fight against AD. When I first joined Professor Hemachandra Reddy’s lab, I was excited but slightly intimidated. As a high schooler in a lab full of medical students and postdocs, I didn’t know whether I would be welcomed. While I entered unsure of what to expect, I quickly realized that my peers never judged my age, but my ideas. I found a second home in that research lab. Throughout the process, I learned how to apply software, such as EndNote for referencing, BioRender for creating detailed figures and tables, and PubMed for reading past literature. Eventually Professor Reddy allowed me to go one step further and lead my own project, resulting in a first-author publication on how damaged cholinergic receptors in the brain of AD patients could be systematically treated by magnetically guided nanoparticles encapsulated with acetylcholinesterase inhibitors—the currently used drug for early-onset AD. After publishing a first-author paper on nanoparticles' role in bypassing the blood-brain barrier of Alzheimer's Disease patients to deliver therapeutics efficiently, I began envisioning a career for myself in the field. This vision led me to apply for the Eleven Scholarship, where Inspire11’s mentorship program could provide the missing pieces between laboratory research and real-world impact. Their technologists and entrepreneurs could help me navigate FDA approvals, scale nanoparticle production, and develop business models that ensure rural communities receive these advancements—exactly the guidance I need to transform my research into accessible treatments. Now at UT Austin studying Biomedical Engineering with a minor in Entrepreneurship, I hope to apply all my experiences gained from Reddy's lab towards innovating medical devices capable of being implanted in AD patients, providing possible early detection and easier deliverance. Ultimately, I plan on collaborating with similar biopharmaceutical companies, like Biogen, in developing and marketing the future of effective drug therapy. Because no matter how potent the medications might be in treating the disease, overcoming organic obstacles, such as breaching the Blood-Brain Barrier, is essential for achieving a successful procedure and preventing harmful side effects in patients. Since my first day in the lab, I’ve grown more confident in myself and am growing into the scientist I dreamt of becoming. I will succeed because I am not afraid to take risks. When I presented my research at the 2nd Healthy Aging and Dementia Research Symposium at TTUHSC, my age was just a number, and my disability felt easier to handle. In that lab environment, my most significant discovery was within myself; I had found an amazing community of people dedicated to the fight against neurological disorders. It's been 118 years since we discovered AD, and countless victims have been lost, including two of my grandparents. However, through years of further innovative research in college and beyond, I seek to "turn it up to 11" by forging new headlines: 'Scientists have found a new, easily administered drug capable of reversing the progression of Alzheimer's Disease.'

The white fields outside my window never limited me—they taught me to grow where I was planted. Cotton fields stretched as far as I could see from my classroom window—a constant reminder of how different my rural upbringing was from students in cities with their fancy research programs and well-funded opportunities. That changed when my grandfather, dying of cancer overseas, asked me one simple question: "Have you used what has been offered to you?" His words shattered my perception of limitations. Suddenly, those cotton fields weren't barriers—they were blank spaces where I could write my own future. That future took shape in Professor Reddy's Alzheimer's research lab. As a high school junior walking into a world of medical students and postdocs, I quickly learned that science doesn't care about your zip code—only your ideas and work ethic. I taught myself to use EndNote for references, BioRender for figures, and PubMed for literature reviews. But my proudest moment came when our work on magnetically guided nanoparticles for Alzheimer's treatment earned a first-author publication. The kid from cotton country had proven he belonged at the research table. The work became deeply personal when genetic testing revealed I carry the APOE4 allele, giving me a higher risk of developing Alzheimer's. Losing two grandparents to this disease transformed my academic curiosity into an urgent mission. Now as a biomedical engineering student at UT Austin, I'm pushing our nanoparticle research further while pursuing an entrepreneurship minor—because scientific breakthroughs only matter if they can reach patients who need them. My dream is to adapt our delivery system into affordable treatments, especially for rural communities like mine that often lack access to specialized neurological care. As the son of Iranian immigrants, I'm deeply grateful for how far my family has come. While my parents have supported me in every way possible, the practical realities mean I often have to balance research with other responsibilities. Time spent addressing financial needs is time I wish I could devote more fully to advancing our Alzheimer's research. I've had to pass on conference opportunities and delay advanced courses that could take our research to the next level—not because I lacked ability, but because I lacked means. This scholarship would change that equation. With this support, I could dedicate this summer to research instead of survival jobs. I could finally present our findings where they might make the biggest difference. Most importantly, I could focus completely on the work that might one day change millions of lives. It's been 118 years since we discovered AD, and countless victims have been lost, including two of my grandparents. However, through years of further innovative research in college and beyond, I seek to forge new headlines: 'Scientists have found a new easily administered drug capable of reversing the progression of Alzheimer's Disease.' When I imagine this headline, I see more than scientific progress. I see my grandfather's sacrifice validated. I see the rural kid who turned cotton fields into laboratories. And I see proof that with enough determination, even the most stubborn barriers—whether biological or circumstantial—can be overcome. Your investment wouldn't just support a student—it would accelerate treatments for families watching loved ones disappear and honor the immigrant dreams that brought me here. Cotton used to limit my worldview, as I felt I could never achieve the same as those who saw tall skyscrapers and beautiful parks out their windows. I may leave my rural origins for college and beyond, but I’ll always chuckle when I see a stray piece of cotton in the air.