The maternal mortality rate of Black mothers is near 3 times higher than that of white mothers (NIH). This is often because after or even during childbirth, Black mothers are neglected at the most vulnerable point of their lives, left to bleed out, get preventable infections, or any number of unnecessary way to pass away. Women, especially those of Color, are too often neglected in medicine, and told that their pain is insignificant. But it's just an excuse for medical professionals to follow outdated procedures and ideologies instead of looking into the concerns of their patients. Too many women of Color either die at the hands of racist and negligent professionals, or are left with lifelong complications. One of these women was my own mother. My Mother was diagnosed with Breast Cancer when I was in the 2nd grade. Although she won her battle with cancer, it did not come without sacrifices and scars that continue to affect her health to this day. I trusted that oncologists can continue to work towards a better cure for cancers, but I felt more drawn to that aftercare and recovery that patients experience. My Mother received reconstructive surgery after surviving cancer, but the procedure involved an autograft which has never properly healed, and she has lost all sensation on the parts of her body that were operated on. For years I watched her suffer silently in pain, as we couldn't any more treatments to fix what the doctors failed to do the first time. It hurts to see someone you love and look up to be broken down and feel hopeless, so I came up with ideas that would have changed the course of her recovery experience. I came up with the idea of making new skin so that surgeons would never have to take another autograft and hurt a patient more than they needed to, and for others to not have to go through the unnecessary pains that she did. It was in middle school that I discovered biomedical engineering, the way to create the answer to my mother's problem, and decided that would be major at university. I even opted to go to a technical high school so that I would be better equipped with computer aided design and drafting principles so I could better represent my other elaborate medical device ideas when I got to college. Now that I am here, I am a part of the executive board of the National Society of Black Engineers Healthcare Innovation Sig, where I help advocate for more diverse medical & bioengineering professionals, and for the advancement in care for disadvantaged and Black communities. I'm also an undergraduate researcher in a biomedical engineering lab, and hope to use my growing knowledge and leadership to create the solutions we need to stop the systemic medical suffering of BIPOC women.

1. only “wrong answers”. 2. only “wrong answers”. 2. only “wrong answers”. 3. only “wrong answers”. 5. yes. 6. perhaps? 14. no… 8. :) I am simply built different 9. Sometimes I look at my cat and swear that she’s actually a little terminator-esque robot skeleton covered in artificial fat and fur and that she will be the cause of my demise some day.

When I was 12 years old, I made a threat to kill myself while attending summer camp. Later that day, I was mentally evaluated and diagnosed with Anxiety, ADHD, Depression, and Autism. Almost immediately after, I was prescribed Adderall, but the drug had no effect on me. I’m still struggling with finding the perfect balance of medications for me. The only thing I can say has definitely improved is my experience with therapy. My thoughts are intrusive and suffocating, so having someone else who understands my experiences, my identity, and my pain actively listen to me is life saving. As a mentally ill Brown girl on the spectrum in America, most of the time, I feel overwhelmingly alone. Having a therapist who can relate to me takes away the stress and pressure of explaining myself more than is helpful to me. Making the choice to prioritize my health over hurting someone’s feelings was difficult, but one that I will continue to make. Executive decision making is my greatest weakness, and something that is hard to practice when you are managing multiple honor and AP classes, extracurriculars, and work while masking constantly. Sometimes I get so caught up in presenting myself a certain way that I freeze when an important choice needs to be made, and I have to try and find myself again in order to make the most honest choice. What helps me cope with this paralyzing and stressful experience is practicing control, even if that means choosing to direct my control elsewhere. When the world feels like it’s caving in, it’s hard to focus on myself and what’s right in front of me. Actively reframing my mindset and staying aware of my actions and how others are affecting me protects me from giving away my power when I shouldn’t, and encourages me to lay my power down when I need rest. Don’t get me wrong, it’s EXHAUSTING to have complete awareness every conscious minute, so I numb myself (in a healthy manner)! Documentaries give me a way to relax but still feel productive at the same time, community service is a way for me to channel my extra energy into others, and video games give me a sense of accomplishment and a way to see the fruits of my labor. The same goes for art and technology, which have been a part of my life since before my diagnosis. My mother is a painter, and my dad works in construction, so my works in design are like a fusion of their passions. Developing and maintaining the maker space at my middle school was one way I found myself. Making complex contraptions with the motorized legos, rigging tetris in raspberry pi, testing the limits of one of our only makey makey boards (still surprised that thing survived), I was in my element. Joining the First Robotics team at my high school, Normality Zero, allowed me to continue my work on a bigger scale. Just last year, my team’s game field design won an award for creativity! Even INSIDE of the classroom, I have woven my love for art and natural science into my curriculum by teaching myself how to use Blender and Fusion 360 (which I also used to create the game field design for my Robotics team). I have made multiple custom designs and printed them out on my classes 3D (filament and resin) printers (which I also fixed because I was VERY DETERMINED to have a physical cat skull in my hand by the end of the day). My love for art and technology has saved me.

As the daughter of a Triracial (Native, Black, white), breast-cancer survivor, politically involved painter, and a successful Salvadoran immigrant who escaped war as a teenager, I have much to share from my experiences: through haikus. Alone in gifted for two years, until more kids but still felt alone. Diagnosed with A -nxiety -DHD -utism at 12 Makerspace, Lego Blender, Autodesk, made logo MLK service. Advocate for fair education and PNGAS and broadband access. Make my own jewelry. I support local business. Stand for little man! The Earth has loved me. My life is for my planet. Nothing can stop me.

No one else looked like me growing up. I had to seek out representation and validation until I got to High School. Before that, no one would stand up for me when the teachers would mispronounce my name, or when students would harass me about my father's citizenship. When a kid would throw me to the ground, and tell me to clean the floor, my hands would be the only ones lifting me up. No matter what anyone else said or did, I knew that the pain I experienced would only add pressure to the diamond I was to become. By the time I left Middle School, I was hard, sharp, and with enough wits and grit to fend for myself, and others. One way I decided to put my traits to use was by simply connecting with other students. My new school was much more diverse than my previous one, and this allowed me to begin connecting with my Latina heritage outside of my home. Although I did not meet any one else who was also Salvadoran until my Sophomore year, I was grateful to have friends who had some understanding of my background. Considering I was a part of the Archery club, Robotics club, and Theater at my school, all of which are stereotypically predominantly white extracurriculars, I was afraid of facing cultural isolation again. Archery was a safe haven for me when I participated at school, but going to another school for meets meant that would be one of a handful of brown kids against a giant, blank canvas in the hundreds. Robotics acted in opposites ways, with racial tension getting high at times, with me being forced to represent multiple groups so that a bunch of straight white boys could stop calling me slurs. Theater ran much much smoother than the activities mentioned before, but there was still social isolation, as being an Afro-Indigenous, half-Salvadoran girl from a middle school no one has ever heard, didn't exactly make you the most popular person off the bat. After every time I chafed with my peers, and even mentors, I realized that I never wanted anyone else to feel that discomfort and sometimes fear that I felt. My life would mean nothing I were to not share my pain, and use it to make sure that others like me can pursue the fields of art and STEM without having to face the adversity of ignorant characters. Making a safe environment for everyone that protects and nourishes is my main goal for my life and my career, no matter how that plan comes in to fruition.