I’m a senior at Rice University, double majoring in bioengineering and studio art, and I’ll be starting an MSc in Immunology at Imperial College London this fall. I grew up in a working-class Afro-Latinx household with a single mom who did everything she could to keep things afloat. Money was tight, and college felt like a distant dream. Since starting at Rice, I’ve worked multiple part-time jobs (sometimes up to four at once) to cover tuition and rent, all while pushing through a full course load and staying involved in research. Most of my time outside of class goes toward science. I’ve worked in several labs (from building CRISPR biosensors to testing aneurysm biomechanics) and have co-authored three publications so far. I also spend a lot of time giving back. As a Peer Research Ambassador, I’ve mentored more than 50 undergrads, helping them figure out how to get started in research. I also volunteered at the An-Nisa Hope Center, where I helped develop a program to recognize local attorneys and judges who support survivors of domestic violence. I’ve always felt that science and community care should go hand in hand. My long-term goal is to become a physician-scientist who develops diagnostic and therapeutic tools for underserved communities. I’m especially interested in creating accessible technology that doesn’t just sit in elite institutions but actually reaches the people who need it. Growing up, I watched people in my community delay care or go without it entirely because they couldn’t afford it or didn’t trust the system to treat them fairly. I remember translating medical forms for family members, seeing how overwhelmed they felt navigating clinics that weren’t built for them. That early exposure stayed with me, fueling my commitment to making healthcare not just innovative, but humane and accessible. This scholarship would go a long way toward helping me afford the cost of studying abroad, especially as I prepare for graduate school in London. I’ve never taken opportunity for granted. Every lab I’ve worked in, every patient I’ve helped, and every student I’ve mentored has reminded me that I’m not doing this just for myself. I carry the stories of my community with me; those who never had the chance, who weren’t seen, or who were told to wait their turn. I’ve turned rejection into redirection, barriers into blueprints, and limitations into lessons. My dreams aren’t abstract. They are deeply rooted in a desire to bridge science and service.

Public service, for me, has shown up in many forms. As an EMT, I’ve cared for patients during their most vulnerable moments: on the side of the road, in cramped apartments, or at understaffed nursing homes. These experiences taught me to communicate clearly, act quickly, and hold space for people’s fear, anger, or grief. In the lab, I’ve worked on research projects focused on equity in diagnostics. I co-authored a publication on CRISPR-Cas12a biosensors for affordable disease detection and later published work on an electrochemical chip that can detect immune biomarkers within an hour, making it ideal for resource-limited settings. These projects weren’t just technically interesting; they felt urgent and necessary. My commitment to public service also extends beyond science. At Rice University, I’ve mentored over 50 undergraduates as a Peer Research Ambassador, helping them find their place in research. Many of them, like me, didn’t have family in STEM or know how to write a cold email to a professor. I’ve volunteered at the An-Nisa Hope Center, helping build a recognition program for attorneys and judges working with domestic violence survivors. I’ve designed educational programs for Harris County’s public defenders. In each of these roles, I’ve seen how small systems-level interventions can shift access, dignity, and power. Now, I’m preparing to begin my MSc in Immunology at Imperial College London. I chose this path because I want a strong foundation in understanding immune dysfunction, tissue response, and inflammation. Long-term, I plan to pursue an MD-PhD and lead research that translates into scalable, low-cost diagnostics and therapeutics. But I also want to remain clinically grounded. I want to sit with patients, listen to their stories, and design care that meets them where they are. I hope to partner with organizations like Médecins Sans Frontières or the WHO, working on projects that connect scientific rigor with practical, real-world delivery. Being a public servant in medicine means more than just showing up in a lab coat; it’s about accountability, empathy, and collaboration. It means building trust and knowing when to step back so others can step forward. It’s about designing tools that don’t just live in academic journals or elite institutions, but actually reach the communities that need them most. Receiving this scholarship would not only ease the significant financial burden of international tuition and living expenses. It would allow me to pursue this work without constantly having to choose between what is financially sustainable and what is meaningful. More than anything, it would be an affirmation that my vision of service, shaped by lived experience and driven by care, belongs in medicine. And I intend to honor that every step of the way.

As a single parent, my mum built a world around me where love, creativity, and ambition could thrive no matter how tight things were financially. She worked multiple jobs, budgeted down to the cent, and still made time to show up fully for me. Whether it was staying up to review a school project, waking up early with me as I prepped for EMT shifts, or just talking through the day over tea, she made the ordinary feel meaningful. Her sacrifices didn’t just help me succeed; they helped me understand what success is truly for. Watching her move through the world with persistence, humor, and quiet strength has made me someone who leads with care. She taught me that intelligence isn’t only about books, and that resilience isn’t always loud. She also never let me settle. When I doubted whether I belonged in research labs or lecture halls, she reminded me that I come from a long line of people who have made something out of nothing. That background gave me a deep sense of responsibility: to do well not just for myself, but for others who face similar barriers. It’s part of what motivates me as a future physician-scientist. I’m currently preparing to pursue my MSc in Immunology at Imperial College London, with long-term plans to earn an MD-PhD. My goal is to develop diagnostic tools and treatments that are both scientifically rigorous and accessible to underserved communities. I remember one night in high school when I broke down over a chemistry exam I’d failed. I was convinced it meant I wasn’t cut out for STEM. My mom sat with me in silence at first, then simply said, “You get 15 minutes to feel it but failing doesn’t mean you're finished.” She didn't offer a solution, just a reminder that I could still move forward. That moment has stuck with me ever since. Her words return to me when I’m standing in an operating room observing surgery, or when an experiment fails in lab, or even when I’m sculpting and the piece cracks in my hands. I just start again. Now, as a senior at Rice University studying bioengineering and studio art, I carry my mother’s lessons into everything I do. I work as an EMT, helping patients in high-stress, vulnerable moments. I conduct research at UCSF on cardiac biomechanics and have developed a device to make oral cancer diagnosis more accessible. Additionally, my art practice (grounded in sculpture) reflects my values and lived experiences, often exploring identity, memory, and presence. This scholarship would allow me to close the remaining gap between financial aid and tuition, cover the cost of applying to medical school, and support the continuation of my research on non-invasive diagnostic tools. But more than that, it would help me move forward with the same integrity my mother has always shown me: with humility, compassion, and an unwavering sense of purpose. I hope to carry her spirit with me into every clinic, lab, and other space I enter. Ultimately, I want to build a career that combines science, empathy, and service. Whether I’m in the lab, clinic, or community, I hope my work makes people feel seen, valued, and cared for.

In 2015, I read about the immortal jellyfish’s (Turritopsis dohrnii) regenerative abilities, sparking my interest in how stem cell research could revolutionize human health. Despite my enthusiasm, my mum joked that studying jellyfish was akin to moving to Antarctica, highlighting the lack of Afro-Latinx representation in research. While studying bioengineering and sculpture, I found unexpected parallels between the two: like shaping raw materials into meaningful forms, designing regenerative solutions involves creativity, precision, and problem-solving. This dual drive to explore how immunology can revolutionize healthcare while promoting inclusivity in research has shaped my academic journey and my future commitment to pursue an MD-PhD. Driven by this mindset, I joined Dr. Xue Gao’s lab in Summer 2022 as an Undergraduate Research Fellow, despite working multiple part-time jobs to support myself through college. With her mentorship, I was able to reduce my workload and fully immerse myself in research, co-authoring a publication on optimizing CRISPR-Cas12a for affordable, high-accuracy DNA detection. This award-winning work deepened both my technical skills and my passion for developing tools that serve under-resourced communities. That same year, I published a second paper with Dr. Peter Lillehoj on optimizing the electrochemical protein detection of CXCL9, a chemokine that regulates T-cell recruitment during immune responses. I applied design concepts from my dual degree in Bioengineering and Studio Art to address the challenges of time-intensive testing. Integrating gold nanoparticles and magnetic beads onto a reusable chip reduced testing time to 1 hour and achieved a 10 picogram/mL detection limit, suitable for both at-home and clinical use. In Summer 2024, I interned in Dr. Elaine Tseng’s cardiothoracic biomechanics lab at UCSF, where I created protocols for testing aneurysmal tissue mechanics using the CellScale Biotester 5000. Our early findings raised new questions about how inflammation and immune-mediated damage drive disease progression. These questions now fuel my academic focus. In Fall 2025, I will begin my MSc in Immunology at Imperial College London. This program is the next critical step in my journey to becoming a physician-scientist. My ultimate goal is to lead research at the intersection of immunology and regenerative medicine while developing diagnostics and therapies that are designed not just for scientific excellence, but for practical implementation in underserved communities. My multidisciplinary research background and role as a Peer Research Ambassador have cemented my commitment to advancing healthcare through innovation and collaboration. I have mentored over 50 Rice undergraduates, helping them identify research interests and build the confidence to approach primary investigators. By tailoring my advice to each student’s unique goals, my mentees overcame perceived barriers and felt more connected to the scientific community. Similarly, as a volunteer at the An-Nisa Hope Center, where I helped develop a recognition program for Harris County attorneys and judges serving clients who have experienced domestic violence. These roles taught me how systems-level intervention can empower communities. Being accepted to Imperial has brought me one step closer to my career in medicine, but financial barriers remain. A scholarship would relieve the burden of international tuition and living expenses, allowing me to devote my full attention to my coursework, research, and community service.

As a single parent, my mum built a world around me where love, creativity, and ambition could thrive no matter how tight things were financially. She worked multiple jobs, budgeted down to the cent, and still made time to show up fully for me. Whether it was staying up to review a school project, waking up early with me as I prepped for EMT shifts, or just talking through the day over tea, she made the ordinary feel meaningful. Her sacrifices didn’t just help me succeed; they helped me understand what success is truly for. Watching her move through the world with persistence, humor, and quiet strength has made me someone who leads with care. She taught me that intelligence isn’t only about books, and that resilience isn’t always loud. She also never let me settle. When I doubted whether I belonged in research labs or lecture halls, she reminded me that I come from a long line of people who have made something out of nothing. That belief, passed down from her, has become the backbone of my work. I remember one night in high school when I broke down over a chemistry exam I’d failed. I was convinced it meant I wasn’t cut out for STEM. My mom sat with me in silence at first, then simply said, “You get 15 minutes to feel it but failing doesn’t mean you're finished.” She didn't offer a solution, just a reminder that I could still move forward. That moment has stuck with me ever since. Her words return to me when I’m standing in an operating room observing surgery, or when an experiment fails in lab, or even when I’m sculpting and the piece cracks in my hands. I just start again. Now, as a senior at Rice University studying bioengineering and studio art, I carry my mother’s lessons into everything I do. I work as an EMT, helping patients in high-stress, vulnerable moments. I conduct research at UCSF on cardiac biomechanics and have developed a device to make oral cancer diagnosis more accessible. Additionally, my art practice (grounded in sculpture) reflects my values and lived experiences, often exploring identity, memory, and presence. This scholarship would allow me to close the remaining gap between financial aid and tuition, cover the cost of applying to medical school, and support the continuation of my research on non-invasive diagnostic tools. But more than that, it would help me move forward with the same integrity my mother has always shown me: with humility, compassion, and an unwavering sense of purpose. I hope to carry her spirit with me into every clinic, lab, and other space I enter.

Sculpture is how I process time: how I hold onto and process fleeting moments and give them form. I have often collected paintings and sculpture images and hung them around my room. It is only right that those images inspire me today. My past work includes surrealist plaster arms, embroidered Instagram photos, and a clay sculpture of distant lovers. Many of my pieces subtly engage with Blackness; not as something to explain, but as something that simply exists. As a Black female sculptor, I belong. My work does not seek to justify that belonging but to affirm it, existing in space without question. Valerie Hadida’s introspective figures inspire my upcoming work, I use copper plates to etch memories into metal. The five-foot sculpture I am making is built from plaster, brown paint, and wire, and is an extension of my growth, a physical marker of change. At this scale, the figure becomes something you have to move around, which holds space in a way that demands presence. I want viewers to feel the weight of it; not just physically but emotionally.

In 2015, I read about the immortal jellyfish’s (Turritopsis dohrnii) regenerative abilities, sparking my interest in how stem cell research could revolutionize human health. Despite my enthusiasm, my mum joked that studying jellyfish was akin to moving to Antarctica, highlighting the lack of Afro-Latinx representation in research. While studying bioengineering and sculpture, I found unexpected parallels between the two: like shaping raw materials into meaningful forms, designing regenerative solutions involves creativity, precision, and problem-solving. This dual drive to explore how immunology can revolutionize healthcare while promoting inclusivity in research has shaped my academic journey and my future commitment to pursue an MD-PhD. I joined Dr. Xue Gao’s lab in Summer 2022 as an Undergraduate Research Fellow, despite working multiple part-time jobs to support myself through college. With her mentorship, I was able to reduce my workload and fully immerse myself in research, co-authoring a publication on optimizing CRISPR-Cas12a for affordable, high-accuracy DNA detection. This award-winning work deepened both my technical skills and my passion for developing tools that serve under-resourced communities. That same year, I published a second paper with Dr. Peter Lillehoj on optimizing the electrochemical protein detection of CXCL9, a chemokine that regulates T-cell recruitment during immune responses. Integrating gold nanoparticles and magnetic beads onto a reusable chip reduced testing time to 1 hour and achieved a 10 picogram/mL detection limit, suitable for both at-home and clinical use. In Summer 2024, I interned in Dr. Elaine Tseng’s cardiothoracic biomechanics lab at UCSF, where I created protocols for testing aneurysmal tissue mechanics using the CellScale Biotester 5000. Our early findings raised new questions about how inflammation and immune-mediated damage drive disease progression. These questions now fuel my academic focus. In Fall 2025, I will begin my MSc in Immunology at Imperial College London. This program is the next critical step in my journey to becoming a physician-scientist. My ultimate goal is to lead research at the intersection of immunology and regenerative medicine while developing diagnostics and therapies that are designed not just for scientific excellence, but for practical implementation in underserved communities. My multidisciplinary research background and role as a Peer Research Ambassador have cemented my commitment to advancing healthcare through innovation and collaboration. I have mentored over 50 Rice undergraduates, helping them identify research interests and build the confidence to approach primary investigators. By tailoring my advice to each student’s unique goals, my mentees overcame perceived barriers and felt more connected to the scientific community. Similarly, as a volunteer at the An-Nisa Hope Center, where I helped develop a recognition program for Harris County attorneys and judges serving clients who have experienced domestic violence. These roles taught me how systems-level intervention can empower communities. As an Afro-Latina woman in STEM, I’ve often found myself in spaces where I was one of very few. I’ve learned to make space for myself and for others, and I carry that with me into every lab, classroom, and clinic. Being underrepresented has made me more committed to mentorship, community engagement, and building systems of care that recognize the full humanity of the people they serve. Being accepted to Imperial has brought me one step closer to my career in medicine, but financial barriers remain. This scholarship would ease the significant financial burden of international tuition and living expenses, which I am currently navigating alone. It would not only make my studies at Imperial more sustainable, but also allow me to focus more deeply on my research and service work without constant financial strain. It would mean I could continue pursuing a career grounded in purpose, not privilege.

One of my greatest achievements to date was earning a co-authorship on a publication about CRISPR-Cas12a DNA biosensors while working as an Undergraduate Research Fellow in Dr. Xue Gao’s lab. When I first joined, I was juggling four part-time jobs to make ends meet—just trying to stay afloat with rent, tuition, and groceries. Finding time for research while balancing coursework and daily expenses felt like a constant uphill battle. There were moments when I seriously questioned whether I could keep everything going. But amidst the chaos, being in the lab gave me a sense of purpose and clarity I hadn’t experienced elsewhere. The work was demanding, but it also reminded me why I fell in love with science in the first place. With Dr. Gao’s support, I was eventually able to reduce my job load to two, giving me the time and headspace to fully engage in our research. That shift made all the difference. I began contributing more deeply to the design and execution of experiments, tackling troubleshooting challenges head-on, and analyzing data with a much clearer mind. Our project focused on improving the sensitivity and reliability of a CRISPR-Cas12a biosensor that could detect unamplified DNA, offering a low-cost alternative for disease detection in low-resource settings. As the project progressed, I saw it evolve from an idea on paper to a working system with real clinical potential. We were eventually published in ACS Sensors, which was a huge milestone for me—not just because of the recognition, but because it marked the first time I saw my efforts contribute directly to something that could help people. I also received an award for presenting our findings, which affirmed the growth I’d made as both a researcher and a science communicator. It felt like validation of the late nights, the financial sacrifices, and the belief that I had something meaningful to offer in this field. That experience taught me more than any class ever could. I learned how to stay resilient under pressure, how to manage competing priorities, and how to trust in my ability to figure things out even when the path ahead wasn’t clear. Most importantly, I learned that I thrive in spaces where science meets social good—where innovation isn’t just impressive, but impactful. I began to understand that my passion isn’t just for discovery, but for making those discoveries accessible to the communities that need them most. This fall, I’ll begin my MSc in Immunology at Imperial College London. I see it not just as a next academic step, but as a launchpad for the kind of career I want to build: one that sits at the intersection of research, medicine, and public service. I’m especially drawn to understanding how the immune system regulates tissue health and inflammation. Long-term, I plan to pursue an MD-PhD so I can lead research that not only breaks scientific ground, but also ensures the tools we develop reach those most often left behind by traditional healthcare systems. For me, success has never been about prestige or titles. It’s about creating knowledge that serves a purpose, and building systems where science works for more people, not just a privileged few.

I’m a senior at Rice University studying bioengineering and studio art, with plans to pursue an MSc in Immunology at Imperial College London this fall. I’m the daughter of a single mother and come from a working-class Afro-Latinx background. Growing up, money was always tight, and college felt more like an escape than anything else. Even so, I’ve worked multiple part-time jobs since starting college (sometimes as many as four at once) to pay for school and living expenses while managing a full course load. Most of my time outside of class goes toward gaining research experience. My experience spans five labs, where I’ve worked on projects related to genome editing, low-cost diagnostic development, and tissue mechanics. I’ve co-authored two publications and recently completed a biomechanics internship at UCSF. Alongside my academic work, I’ve mentored over 50 undergraduates as a Peer Research Ambassador and volunteered with the An-Nisa Hope Center, developing resources for survivors of domestic violence. These experiences have shown me how science and community impact can, and should, go hand in hand. My dream is to become a physician-scientist focused on developing accessible diagnostics and treatments for underserved communities. But pursuing a global education comes with a high price tag. This scholarship would relieve some of the financial pressure that comes with studying abroad and allow me to focus fully on my research, education, and continued community involvement. I’ve learned to be resourceful, resilient, and open to unexpected opportunities. I’ve come a long way from worrying about whether I could afford my next semester, and I’m committed to using my education not only to push the boundaries of science but to uplift the people often left behind by it.

Caregiving has never been a formal role in my life. It has been a necessity, woven into the everyday responsibilities of being a daughter, a sister, and a first-generation college student. I grew up in a working-class Afro-Latinx household where financial instability, health complications, and systemic inequities made interdependence essential. I care for my mother, who has long struggled with chronic illnesses that limit her mobility and energy. In addition to accompanying her to doctor’s appointments, helping manage her medications, and handling groceries and household errands, I’ve also supported my younger siblings emotionally and academically. I’ve guided them through high school applications, late-night math homework, and those quiet moments when being a teenager feels impossible. These responsibilities intensified during my first years of college. I would wake up early to complete assignments before my campus jobs, work multiple shifts, and then call home to make sure my mom was okay—sometimes helping navigate billing disputes or translate her medical instructions from providers. The emotional labor of caregiving has required just as much of me as the physical tasks, teaching me how to advocate, how to listen, and how to show up even when exhausted. It is no exaggeration to say that caregiving shaped the very architecture of my education. But it also clarified my path. My experience supporting my family through complex health challenges gave me early exposure to the healthcare system—and how often it fails people like us. I became interested in medicine not just as science, but as a tool for justice. I’ve pursued a degree in bioengineering and sculpture, integrating my interests in biology, equity, and creativity. Through research experiences in molecular biology and tissue mechanics, I’ve contributed to low-cost diagnostic development and explored how immune-driven inflammation shapes disease. I’ve volunteered with domestic violence survivors, mentored first-generation undergraduates in research, and recently received admission to Imperial College London’s MSc in Immunology program, where I will continue this work before pursuing an MD-PhD. Still, caregiving has meant I’ve had to do more with less. I’ve worked four part-time jobs to cover tuition, housing, and groceries. I’ve chosen between textbooks and utility bills, and juggled lab work with emergency calls from home. Financial aid and scholarships have made this journey possible, but international study brings new costs—visas, housing deposits, and tuition fees that must be paid in advance and in full. Receiving this scholarship would ease that burden. It would allow me to continue supporting my family without compromising my education, and fully engage with my graduate studies at Imperial. More importantly, it would help me stay on the path to becoming the kind of physician-scientist I needed growing up—someone who understands the invisible labor so many caregivers carry, who sees patients not in isolation but in the context of their families, communities, and histories. Caregiving has taught me that resilience is not just about pushing forward, it’s about pulling others with you. This scholarship would not only help me cross the next threshold in my academic journey; it would honor the quiet sacrifices that got me here and fuel the future I’m determined to build—one where care, in all its forms, is recognized, resourced, and reflected in the systems meant to support us.

Sculpture is how I process time: how I hold onto and process fleeting moments and give them form. I have often collected paintings and sculpture images and hung them around my room. It is only right that those images inspire me today. My past work includes surrealist plaster arms, embroidered Instagram photos, and a clay sculpture of distant lovers. Many of my pieces subtly engage with Blackness; not as something to explain, but as something that simply exists. As a Black female sculptor, I belong. My work does not justify that belonging but affirms it: I belong in artistic spaces without question. Art has always been part of my interior life. I grew up collecting printed images of paintings and sculptures and taping them to the walls of my bedroom. Over time, I realized these works weren’t just decoration but they were conversation partners. They offered comfort, provocation, and questions I wasn’t always ready to answer. It feels only right that these early companions now inform the way I approach my own practice. I’m particularly inspired by the introspective bronze sculptures of Valerie Hadida. Her figures, often caught mid-thought, invite viewers to step inside a quiet interior world. They are reflective without being passive, tender without being fragile. I hope to channel a similar kind of introspection in my upcoming work. In every piece, I’ve tried to say something about the tension between presence and absence. What do we carry, what so we lose, and what do we try to make visible again. Many of my pieces also engage with Blackness, but not in a way that explains or defends. Instead, Blackness is an intrinsic part of the work: something that simply is. I don’t see my art as a platform for justification. My work does not ask permission for that presence. This new piece is ambitious. I am making a five-foot figure constructed from plaster, copper, brown paint, and wire. The scale is important. I want the sculpture to command space and attention, to physically require viewers to move around it. At that size, the figure becomes a kind of presence in the room. In this upcoming piece, I am also experimenting with etching memories onto copper plates that will be embedded into the figure itself. Sculpture, for me, is never just about the final object. It’s about the process. It’s about making sense of things that don’t always make sense. And more than anything, it’s about claiming space. Physical space. Emotional space. Historical space. I make art not because I have something to prove, but because I have something to preserve: my memories, my stories, my identities, my silence.

In 2015, I read about the immortal jellyfish (Turritopsis dohrnii) and its ability to reverse aging through transdifferentiation. This sparked a further interest in the prospects of regenerative medicine. Despite my enthusiasm, my mum joked that studying jellyfish was akin to moving to Antarctica, highlighting the lack of Afro-Latinx representation in research. In both disciplines, you start with raw materials and use creative, precise problem-solving to shape them into something meaningful. This dual drive to explore how immunology can revolutionize healthcare while promoting inclusivity in research has shaped my academic journey and my future commitment to pursue an MD-PhD. In Summer 2022, I joined Dr. Xue Gao’s lab, where I co-authored a paper on CRISPR-Cas12a biosensors for low-cost DNA detection. The hands-on work and potential for real-world impact pulled me in. I went on to co-author another paper in Dr. Peter Lillehoj’s lab, this time on an electrochemical chip for detecting CXCL9, a biomarker for T-cell activity. We were able to reduce testing time to one hour and achieve a detection limit of just 10 pg/mL. Most recently, I interned in Dr. Elaine Tseng’s cardiothoracic biomechanics lab, where I developed protocols for assessing aneurysmal tissue. Our findings sparked new questions about how immune-driven inflammation affects tissue remodeling. In Fall 2025, I’ll begin my MSc in Immunology at Imperial College London. I see this as a step toward a bigger mission: becoming a physician-scientist who bridges research and care, developing diagnostic and therapeutic tools for the communities that need them most.

Receiving this scholarship would be a profound support in continuing my service as an EMT while advancing my long-term goal of becoming a physician-scientist committed to equitable care. Working in emergency medical services has given me a unique perspective: rooted in compassion, immediacy, and the realities of community health. It’s one thing to study disparities in a classroom or research lab. It’s another thing entirely to be the person someone relies on in the back of an ambulance, when every second and every decision matters. I entered EMS because I wanted to serve. I come from a background where I’ve had to navigate uncertainty (financial, academic, and personally) and I know what it means to fall through the cracks. Becoming an EMT was a way for me to be there for others during their most vulnerable moments, whether that means managing a traumatic injury, comforting someone in a mental health crisis, or simply listening when no one else will. These experiences have shaped the way I understand healthcare and confirmed that I want to keep showing up for people, in and beyond emergency situations. Outside of EMS, I’m completing a dual degree in Bioengineering and Studio Art at Rice University. Through this interdisciplinary lens, I’ve been part of projects ranging from developing a microneedle patch for post-heart attack recovery, to optimizing low-cost electrochemical detection of immune biomarkers like CXCL9. I’ve conducted biomechanics research on thoracic aneurysms in a UCSF lab and helped design a surgical tool to reduce trauma in cataract surgery. But EMS has always grounded me. It reminds me of the human beings behind the molecules, the urgency behind the statistics, and the reason why I started this journey in the first place. Financially, EMS work is not always easy to sustain while pursuing higher education. The cost of recertification, continuing education, uniforms, and gear add up (especially for students like me who are also managing tuition and basic needs). This scholarship would directly offset those costs and help me continue responding to calls while preparing for a post-baccalaureate program at UCSF, and eventually, an MD-PhD. I hope to integrate my clinical experiences into research that designs more inclusive, accessible healthcare tools for under-resourced communities around the world. I’m particularly drawn to trauma surgery and global health, with long-term goals of collaborating with organizations like WHO or Doctors Without Borders. I want to work in the places where resources are scarce but the need is urgent. My time in EMS has shown me that care doesn’t always start with a scalpel or end with a prescription. It starts with presence, compassion, and trust. Those are values I’ve learned in the field, and they’re values I carry into every lab, classroom, and patient interaction. At the heart of it all, I want to be the kind of physician who doesn’t forget where she came from. One who still picks up the phone at 3 a.m., who trains the next generation of EMTs and who uses her education not just to achieve but to uplift. EMS gave me that purpose. This scholarship would help me keep moving forward with it.

In 2015, I read about the immortal jellyfish’s (Turritopsis dohrnii) regenerative abilities, sparking my interest in how stem cell research could revolutionize human health. Despite my enthusiasm, my mum joked that studying jellyfish was akin to moving to Antarctica, highlighting the lack of Afro-Latinx representation in research. While studying bioengineering and sculpture, I found unexpected parallels between the two: like shaping raw materials into meaningful forms, designing regenerative solutions involves creativity, precision, and problem-solving. My academic journey has been guided by these principles, reinforcing my commitment to lifelong learning, personal growth, and uplifting my community. My path has not been without challenges. Financial instability required me to juggle multiple part-time jobs, but this experience shaped my resilience and adaptability. In Summer 2022, I joined Dr. Xue Gao’s lab as an Undergraduate Research Fellow, reducing my workload from four part-time jobs to two to focus on scientific discovery. There, I co-authored a publication on optimizing CRISPR-Cas12a for low-cost DNA detection, improving trans-cleavage kinetics and reducing off-target events. This research, recognized for its potential in resource-limited settings, solidified my dedication to creating accessible tools for monitoring immune activity across diverse populations. Building upon this foundation, I worked with Dr. Peter Lillehoj to optimize the electrochemical protein detection of CXCL9, a chemokine critical in immune regulation. Leveraging my background in bioengineering and studio art, I reimagined the diagnostic process, integrating gold nanoparticles and magnetic beads onto a reusable chip. This innovation reduced testing time to one hour and achieved a 10 picogram/mL detection limit, making it suitable for both at-home and clinical use. Similarly, in my research with Dr. Elaine Tseng in cardiothoracic biomechanics, I developed protocols to assess the mechanical properties of aortic aneurysmal tissue. This work, which refines how we understand immune-mediated inflammation and elastic tissue remodeling, underscores my dedication to bridging immunology and tissue engineering to improve patient outcomes. Beyond research, I have actively fostered opportunities for others. As a Peer Research Ambassador at Rice, I have mentored over 50 undergraduates, helping them overcome self-doubt and find their place in research. By tailoring my advice to each student’s unique goals, my mentees overcame perceived barriers and felt more connected to the scientific community. Similarly, as a volunteer at the An-Nisa Hope Center, where I helped develop a recognition program for Harris County attorneys and judges serving clients who have experienced domestic violence. These roles taught me how systems-level intervention can empower communities. Chidubè’s legacy is one of excellence, resilience, and service, values that resonate deeply with me. I aspire to pursue an MD-PhD, using my knowledge to advance patient-centered research while mentoring the next generation of diverse scientists. Through my work in genome editing, immune biomarkers, and tissue biomechanics, I seek to create tangible solutions that address healthcare disparities. My journey is not just about personal success but about uplifting others and ensuring that the future of medicine is shaped by those who dare to reimagine its possibilities.