I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The technician began circling the device around, and her face dropped. She exited out outside the curtain, and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids; I took medicine every few hours and had emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain, and the nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right sides of my abdomen; at each side, a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid, and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches once and for all. By this time, the machines had stopped beeping, and the wires were no longer attached to me. I had no more pain in my abdomen, and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. During my stay, I met a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. I quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster trucks, and after that day we were inseparable. I began going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming, and I never saw him again. I asked the other kids and even the nurses, but I never got an answer about whether he was released or died from his sickness. My dream became to help others who are critically hospitalized like we were. I am now a member of the Associates Degree in Nursing (ADN) program, and I hope to graduate in 2026 and then transfer to the Bachelor’s Degree program for my last 2 years of college to gain my Bachelor’s of Science in Nursing (BSN) Degree. I hope to help the parents of my patients through one of the most, if not the most, terrifying yet joyful moments in their lives; being able to communicate with and comfort infants who are unable to communicate on their own; and being able to play a small yet significant part in one of the first steps of the infants lives and parents memories with their child. I also hope to become a travel nurse to help and heal infants worldwide and create my own healthcare apparel business that will consist of handmade necessities and accessories for healthcare workers of all specialties worldwide.

NICU nurses play a role in the healing process by caring for infants by feeding them, bathing them, administering medications, providing parental support, monitoring and documenting patient care, as well as many other pivotal tasks. I hope to make a difference and play a role in this process by helping the parents of my patients through one of the most, if not the most, terrifying yet joyful moments in their lives; being able to communicate with and comfort infants who are unable to communicate on their own; and being able to play a small yet significant part in one of the first steps of the infants lives and parents memories with their child. Nurses can work in a variety of different places such as Military bases and campsites. There are endless environments to choose from and even more opportunities available to interact with new people. I can work in different facilities or even become a Travel nurse and work in different areas across the world. Being financially stable will result in me being less stressed out, obtaining greater focus on other aspects of my life, living debt-free, and being able to experience financial freedom. I hope to spend a portion of my income on creating my own healthcare apparel business that will sell handmade keychains, badge reels, t-shirts, and sweatshirts to any healthcare workers who may desire them. There is a wide variety of Nursing specialties, such as ER and oncology. After becoming a Registered Nurse(RN), you can choose a specialty that you enjoy. There are always new opportunities to switch specialties and adapt to new environments to meet personal needs. Becoming a NICU nurse will allow me to advance my collaboration skills. They often attend deliveries with Labor and Delivery nurses, Neonatal nurses, and Doctors to ensure that an infant’s body is functioning properly and that there is no need to transport them to the NICU. They can also work closely with Pediatricians, Neonatologists, Neonatal nurse practitioners, and unit clerks. As a team, the hospital staff will ensure that the babies are as healthy as possible and attempt to save/protect the infants if an emergency occurs. When purchasing scrubs, there are options to buy loose-fitting scrubs, tight-fitting scrubs, festive designs, and customized designs on websites like Etsy or eBay. Many people compare the fit of scrubs to pajamas, this is the perfect uniform to wear while standing on your feet for 12 hours. Scrubs also act as PPE(personal protective equipment) to protect against bodily fluids, thick scrubs will prevent body fluids from making direct contact with your skin.

NICU nurses play a role in the healing process by caring for infants by feeding them, bathing them, administering medications, providing parental support, monitoring and documenting patient care, as well as many other pivotal tasks. I hope to make a difference and play a role in this process by helping the parents of my patients through one of the most, if not the most, terrifying yet joyful moments in their lives; being able to communicate with and comfort infants who are unable to communicate on their own; and being able to play a small yet significant part in one of the first steps of the infants lives and parents memories with their child. Nurses can work in a variety of different places such as Military bases and campsites. There are endless environments to choose from and even more opportunities available to interact with new people. I can work in different facilities or even become a Travel nurse and work in different areas across the world. Being financially stable will result in me being less stressed out, obtaining greater focus on other aspects of my life, living debt-free, and being able to experience financial freedom. I hope to spend a portion of my income on creating my own healthcare apparel business that will sell handmade keychains, badge reels, t-shirts, and sweatshirts to any healthcare workers who may desire them. There is a wide variety of Nursing specialties, such as ER and oncology. After becoming a Registered Nurse(RN), you can choose a specialty that you enjoy. There are always new opportunities to switch specialties and adapt to new environments to meet personal needs. Becoming a NICU nurse will allow me to advance my collaboration skills. They often attend deliveries with Labor and Delivery nurses, Neonatal nurses, and Doctors to ensure that an infant’s body is functioning properly and that there is no need to transport them to the NICU. They can also work closely with Pediatricians, Neonatologists, Neonatal nurse practitioners, and unit clerks. As a team, the hospital staff will ensure that the babies are as healthy as possible and attempt to save/protect the infants if an emergency occurs. During high school, I was a part of the medical sciences academy where I was able to take a variety of classes such as EMR, anatomy and physiology, allied health assisting, health science foundations, and pharmacy tech. As a result, I was able to earn my adult and infant CPR certifications, certified medical administrative assistant certification, and pharmacy technician certification. From October 2022 to April 2023, I gained 75 clinical hours at Doctor Rodriguez’s Internal Medicine Doctors office where I would package urine/stool samples, answer phone calls, stock equipment, shred papers, assist in the process of updating medical records, check patients vital signs, greet patients, handle billing, help patients in the process of signing up to receive flu shots, and shadow staff members. I also gained an additional 75 clinical hours at Walgreens Pharmacy by sorting medications, stocking shelves, filling prescriptions, pulling expired medications from shelves, organizing and sorting medications, and preparing labels. As a member of the academy I was given the opportunity to participate in the blood drive, either by donating blood or volunteering. I decided to write a promotional article for the school newspaper and donate one pint of blood. I was also able to donate my scrubs to the academy for other students to use.

My name is De’juh Hickman, and I am a first-generation, low-income African American college student and Chick-fil-A employee. I am currently a first-year student at Palm Beach State College who is a member of the Associates Degree in Nursing (ADN) program, and I hope to graduate in 2026 and then transfer to the Bachelor’s Degree program for my last 2 years of college to gain my Bachelor of Science in Nursing (BSN) degree and become a NICU nurse. Along with being a NICU nurse, I hope to become a travel nurse to help and heal infants worldwide and create my own healthcare apparel business that will consist of handmade necessities and accessories for healthcare workers of all specialties worldwide. Attending college will allow me to earn my associates and bachelors degrees and become a NICU nurse, not only has this career been my dream for as long as I can remember but it will also allow me to become the 2nd healthcare worker in my family and alter the negative healthcare field stigma that my family has developed due to my grandmothers death back in 2016 that resulted from medical negligence. Working in healthcare will also allow me to play a role in the healing process by caring for infants by feeding them, bathing them, administering medications, providing parental support, and monitoring and documenting patient care, as well as many other pivotal tasks. I hope to make a difference and play a role in this process by helping the parents of my patients through one of the most, if not the most, terrifying yet joyful moments in their lives; being able to communicate with and comfort infants who are unable to communicate on their own; and being able to play a small yet significant part in one of the first steps of the infants lives and parents memories with their child. During high school, I was a part of the medical sciences academy where I was able to take a variety of classes, such as EMR, anatomy and physiology, allied health assisting, health science foundations, and pharmacy tech. As a result, I was able to earn my adult and infant cpr certifications, certified medical administrative assistant certification, and pharmacy technician certification. From October 2022 to April 2023, I gained 75 clinical hours at Doctor Rodriguez’s Internal Medicine Doctors' office, where I packaged urine and stool samples, answered phone calls, stocked equipment, shredded papers, assisted in the process of updating medical records, checked patients' vital signs, greeted patients, handled billing, helped patients in the process of signing up to receive flu shots, and shadowed staff members. I also gained an additional 75 clinical hours at Walgreens Pharmacy by sorting medications, stocking shelves, filling prescriptions, pulling expired medications from shelves, organizing and sorting medications, and preparing labels. The experience allowed me to observe and interact with various healthcare professionals and learn more about the study of the human body. It taught me more about the possible careers that I could obtain in my future and encounter and collaborate with in the workplace, how to interact with patients and meet their needs, methods of volunteering and giving back to those in need, and basic skills, procedures, and information that I would later revisit and dive deeper into.

I am currently a first-year student at Palm Beach State College who is a member of the Associate Degree in Nursing (ADN) program, and I hope to graduate in 2026 and then transfer to the Bachelor’s Degree program for my last 2 years of college to gain my Bachelor of Science in Nursing (BSN) degree and become a NICU nurse. Along with being a NICU nurse, I hope to become a travel nurse to help and heal infants worldwide and create my own healthcare apparel business that will consist of handmade necessities and accessories for healthcare workers of all specialties worldwide. My greatest achievement to date is my devotion to the medical sciences academy in high school, which allowed me to take a variety of classes, such as EMR, anatomy and physiology, allied health assisting, health science foundations, and pharmacy tech. As a result, I was able to earn my adult and infant CPR certifications, certified medical administrative assistant certification, and pharmacy technician certification. From October 2022 to April 2023, I gained 75 clinical hours at Doctor Rodriguez’s Internal Medicine Doctors' office, where I packaged urine and stool samples, answered phone calls, stocked equipment, shredded papers, assisted in the process of updating medical records, checked patients' vital signs, greeted patients, handled billing, helped patients in the process of signing up to receive flu shots, and shadowed staff members. I also gained an additional 75 clinical hours at Walgreens Pharmacy by sorting medications, stocking shelves, filling prescriptions, pulling expired medications from shelves, organizing and sorting medications, and preparing labels. During my sophomore and junior years of high school, I donated my scrubs to the less fortunate and gained 30 community service hours. My main focus was helping my peers who couldn't afford to purchase scrubs. Each year I purchased 2 pairs of scrubs, one for me to wear throughout the year and the other for me to donate during the last month of school. In December of 2021, I became certified in performing adult and infant CPR. During my sophomore year of high school, I was enrolled in an Emergency Medical Responder class that focused on the roles, responsibilities, and daily life of healthcare professionals. Passing scores on the physical exam (performing CPR on adult and infant mannequins) and paper exam were necessary to earn your CPR card. Many of my classmates struggled when it came to passing the physical aspect of their certification exam. I practiced with them every day during class, and our hard work paid off. Each of the students I practiced with passed their exams and earned their cards. The experience allowed me to observe and interact with various healthcare professionals and learn more about the study of the human body. It taught me more about the possible careers that I could obtain in my future and encounter and collaborate with in the workplace, how to interact with patients and meet their needs, methods of volunteering and giving back to those in need, and basic skills, procedures, and information that I would later revisit and dive deeper into.

The technician began circling the device around, and her face dropped. She exited outside the curtain, and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` Tubes were inserted inside my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate fluids, and I began consuming fluids through an IV and taking medicine after the appendectomy surgery. Around week three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain, and the nurses announced that I could visit the playroom. I met a boy, and I quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster trucks, and after that day we were inseparable. I began going to the playroom once a day, then twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming, and I never saw him again. My dream became to help others who are critically hospitalized like we were; I now had a reason to fight harder to survive. I had another surgery that formed incisions on both sides of my abdomen. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches. By this time, the machines had stopped beeping, and the wires were no longer attached. I had no more pain in my abdomen, and I was able to eat solids. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face. During high school, I was a part of the medical sciences academy where I was able to take a variety of classes, such as EMR, anatomy and physiology, allied health assisting, health science foundations, and pharmacy tech. As a result, I was able to earn my adult and infant cpr certifications, certified medical administrative assistant certification, and pharmacy technician certification. From October 2022 to April 2023, I gained 75 clinical hours at Doctor Rodriguez’s Internal Medicine Doctors' office, where I packaged urine and stool samples, answered phone calls, stocked equipment, shredded papers, assisted in the process of updating medical records, checked patients' vital signs, greeted patients, handled billing, helped patients in the process of signing up to receive flu shots, and shadowed staff members. I also gained an additional 75 clinical hours at Walgreens Pharmacy by sorting medications, stocking shelves, filling prescriptions, pulling expired medications from shelves, organizing and sorting medications, and preparing labels. The experience allowed me to observe and interact with various healthcare professionals and learn more about the study of the human body. It taught me more about the possible careers that I could obtain in my future and encounter and collaborate with in the workplace, how to interact with patients and meet their needs, methods of volunteering and giving back to those in need, and basic skills, procedures, and information that I would later revisit and dive deeper into. Today, I am currently a first-year student at Palm Beach State College who is a member of the Associate Degree in Nursing (ADN) program, and I hope to graduate in 2026 and then transfer to the Bachelor’s Degree program for my last 2 years of college to gain my Bachelor of Science in Nursing (BSN) degree and become a NICU nurse. Along with being a NICU nurse, I hope to become a travel nurse to help and heal infants worldwide and create my own healthcare apparel business that will consist of handmade necessities and accessories for healthcare workers of all specialties worldwide.

Oktoberfest is a German food and beer festival that combines German culture with American culture. A variety of carnival rides, meals, beer, pop-up shops, concessions stands, entertainment, and merchandise are offered. I volunteered at the festival on October 14, 2023, from 2-6 p.m. I was assigned to the German Country Club to serve red cabbage, goulash, mashed potatoes, pork shanks, Jägerschnitzel, sauerbraten, Brötchen, and noodles. By volunteering, I helped the JROTC on-campus academy by being one of their present volunteers and lessened the stress put on the kitchen staff to meet the needs of the customers. During my sophomore and junior years of High School, I donated my scrubs to the less fortunate and gained 30 community service hours. My main focus was helping my peers who couldn't afford to purchase scrubs. Each year I purchased 2 pairs of scrubs, one for me to wear throughout the year and the other for me to donate during the last month of school. In 2022, I participated in the Jrotc Academy car wash. I washed and dried cars and held up signs in front of the School to promote the car wash. The driver of each car paid $5, which helped to save up for the Military ball(an annual formal event that JROTC Academy students and their plus-one attend to enjoy dancing, eating German meals, and interacting with each other). In December of 2021, I became certified in performing adult and infant CPR. During my sophomore year of High School, I was enrolled in an Emergency Medical Responder class which focused on the roles, responsibilities, and daily life of healthcare professionals. Passing scores on the physical exam(performing CPR on adult and infant mannequins) and paper exam were necessary to earn your CPR card. Many of my classmates struggled when it came to passing the physical aspect of their certification exam. I practiced with them every day during class, and our hard work paid off. Each of the students I practiced with passed their exams and earned their cards. I have known my best friend for 7 years. We met in 6th grade on August 13, 2017, and from that day forward we have been inseparable. We entered and left middle school together, entered and graduated from high school together, and I am now a college freshman as she is about to enter the army. To say the least, we have been through almost every stage of life together and plan to face any more to come as a team. She comes from a single-parent household with 3 siblings, and for as long as I have known her family, her mom hasn’t been the most supportive, protective, or nurturing parent. She constantly forces her to purchase everything on her own and get around by herself, whether it be walking home from work at 12 am or being forced to ride her bike to work during a storm despite multiple people being home to drive her. Before getting a job during sophomore year, there were days when her mom wouldn’t feed her or her siblings or would force them to share small portions of food despite having money and deciding to use it to purchase food from fast food restaurants on the way home from work for herself. I always made sure to invite her over to eat and watch movies together, and then towards the end of our hangout, I would pack bags filled with foods and snacks for her to bring home.

My name is De’juh Hickman, and I am a first-generation, low-income African American college student and Chick-fil-A employee. I am currently a first-year student at Palm Beach State College who is a member of the Associates Degree in Nursing (ADN) program, and I hope to graduate in 2026 and then transfer to the Bachelor’s Degree program for my last 2 years of college to gain my Bachelor of Science in Nursing (BSN) degree and become a NICU nurse. Along with being a NICU nurse, I hope to become a travel nurse to help and heal infants worldwide and create my own healthcare apparel business that will consist of handmade necessities and accessories for healthcare workers of all specialties worldwide. NICU nurses play a role in the healing process by caring for infants by feeding them, bathing them, administering medications, providing parental support, and monitoring and documenting patient care, as well as many other pivotal tasks. I hope to make a difference and play a role in this process by helping the parents of my patients through one of the most, if not the most, terrifying yet joyful moments in their lives; being able to communicate with and comfort infants who are unable to communicate on their own; and being able to play a small yet significant part in one of the first steps of the infants lives and parents memories with their child. I also hope to become a travel nurse to help and heal infants worldwide and create my own healthcare apparel business that will consist of handmade necessities and accessories for healthcare workers of all specialties worldwide. I greatly appreciate any donor that views and considers any of my scholarship applications as well as the opportunity to apply to scholarships and grants that will allow me to pursue my education and turn my vision board into a reality. Receiving this scholarship will lessen the financial burden of college and the resulting stress that is put on me and my family to afford the costs of books, tuition, supplies, etc. I am hoping to transfer to a nearby university after earning my associates degree in May of 2026, but this will be impossible without the help of financial aid. I have also heard about the fees placed on students who have entered the bachelor's program, and I fear that we will be unable to afford the expenses. Although my parents support me in pursuit of my education, they are unable to fund it, and I fear that I may have to fund it myself, which will likely be impossible to do with a part-time job.

My name is De’juh Hickman, and I am a first-generation, low-income African American college student and Chick-fil-A employee. I am currently a first-year student at Palm Beach State College who is a member of the Associates Degree in Nursing (ADN) program, and I hope to graduate in 2026 and then transfer to the Bachelor’s Degree program for my last 2 years of college to gain my Bachelor of Science in Nursing (BSN) degree and become a NICU nurse. Along with being a NICU nurse, I hope to become a travel nurse to help and heal infants worldwide and create my own healthcare apparel business that will consist of handmade necessities and accessories for healthcare workers of all specialties worldwide. Becoming a NICU nurse will allow me to become the 1st healthcare worker in my family and alter the negative healthcare field stigma that my family has developed due to my grandmother's death back in 2016 that resulted from medical negligence. My grandmother would be alive today if she had been properly cared for. As a future nurse, one of my main priorities is to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone. I greatly appreciate any donor that views and considers any of my scholarship applications as well as the opportunity to apply to scholarships and grants that will allow me to pursue my education and turn my vision board into a reality. Receiving this scholarship will lessen the financial burden of college and the resulting stress that is put on me and my family to afford the costs of books, tuition, supplies, etc. I am hoping to transfer to a nearby university after earning my associates degree in May of 2026, but this will be impossible without the help of financial aid. I have also heard about the fees placed on students who have entered the bachelor's program, and I fear that we will be unable to afford the expenses. Although my parents support me in pursuit of my education, they are unable to fund it, and I fear that I may have to fund it myself, which will likely be impossible to do with a part-time job.

I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The technician began circling the device around, and her face dropped. She exited out outside the curtain, and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids; I took medicine every few hours and had emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain, and the nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right sides of my abdomen; at each side, a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid, and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches once and for all. By this time, the machines had stopped beeping, and the wires were no longer attached to me. I had no more pain in my abdomen, and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. During my stay, I met a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. I quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster trucks, and after that day we were inseparable. I began going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming, and I never saw him again. I asked the other kids and even the nurses, but I never got an answer about whether he was released or died from his sickness. My dream became to help others who are critically hospitalized like we were. I am now a member of the Associates Degree in Nursing (ADN) program, and I hope to graduate in 2026 and then transfer to the Bachelor’s Degree program for my last 2 years of college to gain my Bachelor’s of Science in Nursing (BSN) Degree. I hope to help the parents of my patients through one of the most, if not the most, terrifying yet joyful moments in their lives; being able to communicate with and comfort infants who are unable to communicate on their own; and being able to play a small yet significant part in one of the first steps of the infants lives and parents memories with their child. I also hope to become a travel nurse to help and heal infants worldwide and create my own healthcare apparel business that will consist of handmade necessities and accessories for healthcare workers of all specialties worldwide.

My name is De’juh Hickman, and I am a first-generation, low-income African American college student and Chick-fil-A employee. I am currently a first-year student at Palm Beach State College who is a member of the Associates Degree in Nursing (ADN) program, and I hope to graduate in 2026 and then transfer to the Bachelor’s Degree program for my last 2 years of college to gain my Bachelor of Science in Nursing (BSN) degree and become a NICU nurse. Along with being a NICU nurse, I hope to become a travel nurse to help and heal infants worldwide and create my own healthcare apparel business that will consist of handmade necessities and accessories for healthcare workers of all specialties worldwide. Attending college will allow me to earn my associates and bachelors degrees and become a NICU nurse, not only has this career been my dream for as long as I can remember but it will also allow me to become the 2nd healthcare worker in my family and alter the negative healthcare field stigma that my family has developed due to my grandmothers death back in 2016 that resulted from medical negligence. Working in healthcare will also allow me to play a role in the healing process by caring for infants by feeding them, bathing them, administering medications, providing parental support, and monitoring and documenting patient care, as well as many other pivotal tasks. I hope to make a difference and play a role in this process by helping the parents of my patients through one of the most, if not the most, terrifying yet joyful moments in their lives; being able to communicate with and comfort infants who are unable to communicate on their own; and being able to play a small yet significant part in one of the first steps of the infants lives and parents memories with their child. I greatly appreciate any donor that views and considers any of my scholarship applications as well as the opportunity to apply to scholarships and grants that will allow me to pursue my education and turn my vision board into a reality. Receiving this scholarship will lessen the financial burden of college and the resulting stress that is put on me and my family to afford the costs of books, tuition, supplies, etc. I am hoping to transfer to a nearby university after earning my associates degree in May of 2026, but this will be impossible without the help of financial aid. I have also heard about the fees placed on students who have entered the bachelor's program, and I fear that we will be unable to afford the expenses. Although my parents support me in pursuit of my education, they are unable to fund it, and I fear that I may have to fund it myself, which will likely be impossible to do with a part-time job.

My name is De’juh Hickman, and I am a first-generation, low-income African American college student and Chick-fil-A employee. I am currently a first-year student at Palm Beach State College who is a member of the Associates Degree in Nursing (ADN) program, and I hope to graduate in 2026 and then transfer to the Bachelor’s Degree program for my last 2 years of college to gain my Bachelor of Science in Nursing (BSN) degree and become a NICU nurse. Along with being a NICU nurse, I hope to become a travel nurse to help and heal infants worldwide and create my own healthcare apparel business that will consist of handmade necessities and accessories for healthcare workers of all specialties worldwide. Attending college will allow me to earn my associates and bachelors degrees and become a NICU nurse, not only has this career been my dream for as long as I can remember but it will also allow me to become the 2nd healthcare worker in my family and alter the negative healthcare field stigma that my family has developed due to my grandmothers death back in 2016 that resulted from medical negligence. Working in healthcare will also allow me to play a role in the healing process by caring for infants by feeding them, bathing them, administering medications, providing parental support, and monitoring and documenting patient care, as well as many other pivotal tasks. I hope to make a difference and play a role in this process by helping the parents of my patients through one of the most, if not the most, terrifying yet joyful moments in their lives; being able to communicate with and comfort infants who are unable to communicate on their own; and being able to play a small yet significant part in one of the first steps of the infants lives and parents memories with their child. I greatly appreciate any donor that views and considers any of my scholarship applications as well as the opportunity to apply to scholarships and grants that will allow me to pursue my education and turn my vision board into a reality. Receiving this scholarship will lessen the financial burden of college and the resulting stress that is put on me and my family to afford the costs of books, tuition, supplies, etc. I am hoping to transfer to a nearby university after earning my associates degree in May of 2026, but this will be impossible without the help of financial aid. I have also heard about the fees placed on students who have entered the bachelor's program, and I fear that we will be unable to afford the expenses. Although my parents support me in pursuit of my education, they are unable to fund it, and I fear that I may have to fund it myself, which will likely be impossible to do with a part-time job.

At the age of 9, I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The fluid was as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The technician began circling the device around, and her face dropped. She exited out outside the curtain, and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until my parents were escorted in front of the curtain and I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids; I took medicine every few hours and had emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain, and the nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right sides of my abdomen; at each side, a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid, and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches once and for all. By this time, the machines had stopped beeping, and the wires were no longer attached to me. I had no more pain in my abdomen, and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. During my stay, I met a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. I quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster trucks, and after that day we were inseparable. I began going to the playroom once a day, then twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming, and I never saw him again. I asked the other kids and even the nurses, but I never got an answer about whether he was released or died from his sickness. My dream became to help others who are critically hospitalized like we were. I am now a first-year student at Palm Beach State College who is a member of the Associates Degree in Nursing (ADN) program, and I hope to graduate in 2026 and then transfer to the Bachelor’s Degree program for my last 2 years of college to gain my Bachelor of Science in Nursing (BSN) degree and become a NICU nurse.

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

My name is De’juh Hickman, and I am a first-generation, low-income African American college student and Chick-fil-A employee. I am currently a first-year student at Palm Beach State College who is a member of the Associates Degree in Nursing (ADN) program, and I hope to graduate in 2026 and then transfer to the Bachelor’s Degree program for my last 2 years of college to gain my Bachelor of Science in Nursing (BSN) degree and become a NICU nurse. Along with being a NICU nurse, I hope to become a travel nurse to help and heal infants worldwide and create my own healthcare apparel business that will consist of handmade necessities and accessories for healthcare workers of all specialties worldwide. Attending college will allow me to earn my associates and bachelors degrees and become a NICU nurse, not only has this career been my dream for as long as I can remember but it will also allow me to become the 2nd healthcare worker in my family and alter the negative healthcare field stigma that my family has developed due to my grandmothers death back in 2016 that resulted from medical negligence. Working in healthcare will also allow me to play a role in the healing process by caring for infants by feeding them, bathing them, administering medications, providing parental support, and monitoring and documenting patient care, as well as many other pivotal tasks. I hope to make a difference and play a role in this process by helping the parents of my patients through one of the most, if not the most, terrifying yet joyful moments in their lives; being able to communicate with and comfort infants who are unable to communicate on their own; and being able to play a small yet significant part in one of the first steps of the infants lives and parents memories with their child. NICU nurses play a role in the healing process by caring for infants by feeding them, bathing them, administering medications, providing parental support, and monitoring and documenting patient care, as well as many other pivotal tasks. I hope to make a difference and play a role in this process by helping the parents of my patients through one of the most, if not the most, terrifying yet joyful moments in their lives; being able to communicate with and comfort infants who are unable to communicate on their own; and being able to play a small yet significant part in one of the first steps of the infants lives and parents memories with their child. I also hope to become a travel nurse to help and heal infants worldwide and create my own healthcare apparel business that will consist of handmade necessities and accessories for healthcare workers of all specialties worldwide.

My name is De’juh Hickman, and I am a first-generation, low-income African American college student and Chick-fil-A employee. I am currently a first-year student at Palm Beach State College who is a member of the Associates Degree in Nursing (ADN) program, and I hope to graduate in 2026 and then transfer to the Bachelor’s Degree program for my last 2 years of college to gain my Bachelor of Science in Nursing (BSN) degree and become a NICU nurse. Along with being a NICU nurse, I hope to become a travel nurse to help and heal infants worldwide and create my own healthcare apparel business that will consist of handmade necessities and accessories for healthcare workers of all specialties worldwide. Attending college will allow me to earn my associates and bachelors degrees and become a NICU nurse, not only has this career been my dream for as long as I can remember but it will also allow me to become the 2nd healthcare worker in my family and alter the negative healthcare field stigma that my family has developed due to my grandmothers death back in 2016 that resulted from medical negligence. Working in healthcare will also allow me to play a role in the healing process by caring for infants by feeding them, bathing them, administering medications, providing parental support, and monitoring and documenting patient care, as well as many other pivotal tasks. I hope to make a difference and play a role in this process by helping the parents of my patients through one of the most, if not the most, terrifying yet joyful moments in their lives; being able to communicate with and comfort infants who are unable to communicate on their own; and being able to play a small yet significant part in one of the first steps of the infants lives and parents memories with their child. I greatly appreciate any donor that views and considers any of my scholarship applications as well as the opportunity to apply to scholarships and grants that will allow me to pursue my education and turn my vision board into a reality. Receiving this scholarship will lessen the financial burden of college and the resulting stress that is put on me and my family to afford the costs of books, tuition, supplies, etc. I am hoping to transfer to a nearby university after earning my associates degree in May of 2026, but this will be impossible without the help of financial aid. I have also heard about the fees placed on students who have entered the bachelor's program, and I fear that we will be unable to afford the expenses. Although my parents support me in pursuit of my education, they are unable to fund it, and I fear that I may have to fund it myself, which will likely be impossible to do with a part-time job.

My name is De’juh Hickman, and I am a first-generation, low-income African American college student and Chick-fil-A employee. I am currently a first-year student at Palm Beach State College who is a member of the Associates Degree in Nursing (ADN) program, and I hope to graduate in 2026 and then transfer to the Bachelor’s Degree program for my last 2 years of college to gain my Bachelor of Science in Nursing (BSN) degree and become a NICU nurse. Along with being a NICU nurse, I hope to become a travel nurse to help and heal infants worldwide and create my own healthcare apparel business that will consist of handmade necessities and accessories for healthcare workers of all specialties worldwide. Going to college means that I will be able play a role in the healing process by caring for infants by feeding them, bathing them, administering medications, providing parental support, and monitoring and documenting patient care, as well as many other pivotal tasks. I hope to make a difference and play a role in this process by helping the parents of my patients through one of the most, if not the most, terrifying yet joyful moments in their lives; being able to communicate with and comfort infants who are unable to communicate on their own; and being able to play a small yet significant part in one of the first steps of the infants lives and parents memories with their child. I also hope to become a travel nurse to help and heal infants worldwide and create my own healthcare apparel business that will consist of handmade necessities and accessories for healthcare workers of all specialties worldwide. As a low-income and first-generation African American student, I greatly appreciate any donor that views and considers any of my scholarship applications as well as the opportunity to apply to scholarships and grants that will allow me to pursue my education and turn my vision board into a reality. Receiving this scholarship will lessen the financial burden of college and the resulting stress that is put on me and my family to afford the costs of books, tuition, supplies, etc. I am hoping to transfer to a nearby university after earning my associates degree in May of 2026, but this will be impossible without the help of financial aid. I have also heard about the fees placed on students who have entered the bachelor's program, and I fear that we will be unable to afford the expenses. Although my parents support me in pursuit of my education, they are unable to fund it, and I fear that I may have to fund it myself, which will likely be impossible to do with a part-time job.

I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The technician began circling the device around, and her face dropped. She exited outside the curtain, and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside of my esophagus. I began consuming fluids through an IV; I took medicine every few hours and had emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain, and the nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right sides of my abdomen; at each side, a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid, and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches once and for all. By this time, the machines had stopped beeping, and the wires were no longer attached to me. I had no more pain in my abdomen, and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. During my stay, I met a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. I quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster trucks, and after that day we were inseparable. I began going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming, and I never saw him again. I asked the other kids and even the nurses, but I never got an answer about whether he was released or died from his sickness. My dream became to help others who are critically hospitalized like we were. I am now a first-year student at Palm Beach State College who is a member of the Associates Degree in Nursing (ADN) program, and I hope to graduate in 2026 and then transfer to the Bachelor’s Degree program for my last 2 years of college to gain my Bachelor’s of Science in Nursing (BSN) Degree. I hope to make a difference by helping the parents of my patients through one of the most, if not the most, terrifying yet joyful moments in their lives; being able to communicate with and comfort infants who are unable to communicate on their own; and being able to play a small yet significant part in one of the first steps of the infants lives and parents memories with their child. I also hope to become a travel nurse to help and heal infants worldwide and create my own healthcare apparel business that will consist of handmade necessities and accessories for healthcare workers of all specialties worldwide.

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t caring for us as they should. At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of everyone and does not favor anyone.

My name is De’juh Hickman, and I am a first-generation, low-income African American college student and Chick-fil-A employee. I am currently a first-year student at Palm Beach State College who is a member of the Associates Degree in Nursing (ADN) program, and I hope to graduate in 2026 and then transfer to the Bachelor’s Degree program for my last 2 years of college to gain my Bachelor of Science in Nursing (BSN) degree and become a NICU nurse. Along with being a NICU nurse, I hope to become a travel nurse to help and heal infants worldwide and create my own healthcare apparel business that will consist of handmade necessities and accessories for healthcare workers of all specialties worldwide. Attending college will allow me to earn my associate's and bachelor's degrees and become a NICU nurse. Not only has this career been my dream for as long as I can remember, but it will also allow me to become the 2nd healthcare worker in my family and alter the negative healthcare field stigma that my family has developed due to my grandmother's death back in 2016 that resulted from medical negligence.  Working in healthcare will also allow me to play a role in the healing process by caring for infants by feeding them, bathing them, administering medications, providing parental support, and monitoring and documenting patient care, as well as many other pivotal tasks. I hope to make a difference and play a role in this process by helping the parents of my patients through one of the most, if not the most, terrifying yet joyful moments in their lives; being able to communicate with and comfort infants who are unable to communicate on their own; and being able to play a small yet significant part in one of the first steps of the infants lives and parents memories with their child.  I greatly appreciate any donor that views and considers any of my scholarship applications as well as the opportunity to apply to scholarships and grants that will allow me to pursue my education and turn my vision board into a reality. Receiving this scholarship will lessen the financial burden of college and the resulting stress that is put on me and my family to afford the costs of books, tuition, supplies, etc. I am hoping to transfer to a nearby university after earning my associate's degree in May of 2026, but this will be impossible without the help of financial aid. I have also heard about the fees placed on students who have entered the bachelor's program, and I fear that we will be unable to afford the expenses. Although my parents support me in pursuit of my education, they are unable to fund it, and I fear that I may have to fund it myself, which will likely be impossible to do with a part-time job.

At the age of 9, I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The fluid was as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The technician began circling the device around, and her face dropped. She exited out outside the curtain, and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until my parents were escorted in front of the curtain and I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids; I took medicine every few hours and had emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain, and the nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right sides of my abdomen; at each side, a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid, and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches once and for all. By this time, the machines had stopped beeping, and the wires were no longer attached to me. I had no more pain in my abdomen, and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. During my stay, I met a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. I quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster trucks, and after that day we were inseparable. I began going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming, and I never saw him again. I asked the other kids and even the nurses, but I never got an answer about whether he was released or died from his sickness. My dream became to help others who are critically hospitalized like we were. I am now a freshman at Palm Beach State College who is a member of the Associates Degree in Nursing (ADN) program, and I hope to graduate in 2026 and then transfer to the Bachelor’s Degree program for my last 2 years of college to gain my Bachelor’s of Science in Nursing (BSN) Degree. I will make a difference by helping the parents of my patients through one of the most, if not the most, terrifying yet joyful moments in their lives; being able to communicate with and comfort infants who are unable to communicate on their own; and being able to play a small yet significant part in one of the first steps of the infants lives and parents memories with their child.

At the age of 9, I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The fluid was as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The technician began circling the device around, and her face dropped. She exited out of the curtain, and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until my parents were escorted in front of the curtain and I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside of my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids; I took medicine every few hours and had an emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain, and the nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right sides of my abdomen; at each side, a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid, and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches once and for all. By this time, the machines stopped beeping, and the wires were no longer attached to me. I had no more pain in my abdomen, and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. During my stay, I met a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. I quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster trucks, and after that day we were inseparable. I begin going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming, and I never saw him again. I asked the other kids and even the nurses, but I never got an answer on if he was released or died from his sickness. My dream became to help others who are critically hospitalized like we were. I am now a freshman at Palm Beach State College who is a member of the Associates Degree in Nursing (ADN) program, and I hope to graduate in 2026 and then transfer to the Bachelor’s Degree program for my last 2 years of college to gain my Bachelor’s of Science in Nursing (BSN) Degree. I hope to advance in my career by becoming a travel nurse to help and heal infants worldwide and create my own healthcare apparel business that will consist of handmade necessities and accessories for healthcare workers of all specialties worldwide.

At the age of 9, I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The fluid was as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The technician began circling the device around, and her face dropped. She exited out of the curtain, and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until my parents were escorted in front of the curtain and I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside of my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids; I took medicine every few hours and had an emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain, and the nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right sides of my abdomen; at each side, a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid, and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches once and for all. By this time, the machines stopped beeping, and the wires were no longer attached to me. I had no more pain in my abdomen, and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. During my stay, I met a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. I quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster trucks, and after that day we were inseparable. I begin going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming, and I never saw him again. I asked the other kids and even the nurses, but I never got an answer on if he was released or died from his sickness. My dream became to help others who are critically hospitalized like we were. As a NICU nurse, the biggest rewards of my career will be helping the parents of my patients through one of the most, if not the most, terrifying yet joyful moments in their lives; being able to communicate with and comfort infants who are unable to communicate on their own; and being able to play a small yet significant part in one of the first steps of the infants lives and parents memories with their child. I also hope to advance in my career by becoming a travel nurse to help and heal infants worldwide and create my own healthcare apparel business that will consist of handmade necessities and accessories for healthcare workers of all specialties worldwide.

At the age of 9, I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The fluid was as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The technician began circling the device around, and her face dropped. She exited out of the curtain, and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until my parents were escorted in front of the curtain and I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside of my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids; I took medicine every few hours and had an emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain, and the nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right sides of my abdomen; at each side, a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid, and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches once and for all. By this time, the machines stopped beeping, and the wires were no longer attached to me. I had no more pain in my abdomen, and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. During my stay, I met a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. I quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster trucks, and after that day we were inseparable. I begin going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming, and I never saw him again. I asked the other kids and even the nurses, but I never got an answer on if he was released or died from his sickness. My dream became to help others who are critically hospitalized like we were. As a NICU nurse, the biggest rewards of my career will be helping the parents of my patients through one of the most, if not the most, terrifying yet joyful moments in their lives; being able to communicate with and comfort infants who are unable to communicate on their own; and being able to play a small yet significant part in one of the first steps of the infants lives and parents memories with their child. I also hope to advance in my career by becoming a travel nurse to help and heal infants worldwide and create my own healthcare apparel business that will consist of handmade necessities and accessories for healthcare workers of all specialties worldwide.

At the age of 9, I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The fluid was as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The technician began circling the device around and her face dropped. She exited out of the curtain and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until my parents were escorted in front of the curtain and I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside of my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids, I took medicine every few hours, and had an emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain and the nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right side of my abdomen, at each side a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches once and for all. By this time, the machines stopped beeping and the wires were no longer attached to me, I had no more pain in my abdomen, and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. During my stay, I met a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. I quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster trucks and after that day we were inseparable. I begin going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming and I never saw him again. I asked the other kids and even the nurses but I never got an answer on if he was released or died from his sickness. My dream became to help others who are critically hospitalized like we were. I am now a freshman at Palm Beach State College who is a member of the Associates Degree in Nursing(ADN) program and I hope to graduate in 2026 and become a NICU nurse. After becoming a nurse I hope to transfer over to the Bachelor’s Degree program for my last 2 years of college to gain my Bachelor’s of Science in Nursing(BSN) Degree.

At the age of 9, I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The fluid was as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The technician began circling the device around and her face dropped. She exited out of the curtain and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until my parents were escorted in front of the curtain and I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside of my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids, I took medicine every few hours, and had an emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain and the nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right side of my abdomen, at each side a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches once and for all. By this time, the machines stopped beeping and the wires were no longer attached to me, I had no more pain in my abdomen, and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. During my stay, I met a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. I quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster trucks and after that day we were inseparable. I begin going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming and I never saw him again. I asked the other kids and even the nurses but I never got an answer on if he was released or died from his sickness. My dream became to help others who are critically hospitalized like we were. I am now a freshman at Palm Beach State College who is a member of the Associates Degree in Nursing(ADN) program and I hope to graduate in 2026 and become a NICU nurse. After becoming a nurse I hope to transfer over to the Bachelor’s Degree program for my last 2 years of college to gain my Bachelor’s of Science in Nursing(BSN) Degree.

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in healthcare will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in healthcare will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

My name is De’juh Hickman and I am a college freshman at Palm Beach State College who is majoring in nursing. I am currently a member of the Associates Degree in Nursing(ADN) program and I hope to graduate in 2026 and become a NICU nurse. After becoming a nurse I hope to transfer over to the Bachelor’s Degree program for my last 2 years of college to gain my Bachelor’s of Science in Nursing(BSN) Degree. I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The fluid was as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The technician began circling the device around and her face dropped. She exited out of the curtain and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until my parents were escorted in front of the curtain and I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside of my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids, I took medicine every few hours, and had an emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain and the nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right side of my abdomen, at each side a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches once and for all. By this time, the machines stopped beeping and the wires were no longer attached to me, I had no more pain in my abdomen, and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. I met a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. I quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster trucks and after that day we were inseparable. Throughout my stay I begin going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming and I never saw him again. I asked the other kids and even the nurses but I never got an answer on if he was released or died from his sickness. My dream became to help others like him, whose wings had been clipped and whose shelter became the bird cage they were confined to. I will become a NICU Nurse to help infants who are critically hospitalized like we were.

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The fluid was as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The technician began circling the device around and her face dropped. She exited out of the curtain and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until my parents were escorted in front of the curtain and I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside of my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids, I took medicine every few hours, and had an emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain and the nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right side of my abdomen, at each side a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches once and for all. By this time, the machines stopped beeping and the wires were no longer attached to me, I had no more pain in my abdomen, and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. I met a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. I quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster trucks and after that day we were inseparable. Throughout my stay I begin going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming and I never saw him again. I asked the other kids and even the nurses but I never got an answer on if he was released or died from his sickness. My dream became to help others like him, whose wings had been clipped and whose shelter became the bird cage they were confined to. I will become a NICU Nurse to help infants who are critically hospitalized like we were.

I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The fluid was as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The technician began circling the device around and her face dropped. She exited out of the curtain and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until my parents were escorted in front of the curtain and I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside of my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids, I took medicine every few hours, and had an emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain and the nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right side of my abdomen, at each side a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches once and for all. By this time, the machines stopped beeping and the wires were no longer attached to me, I had no more pain in my abdomen, and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. My hospital stay allowed me to meet a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. I quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster trucks and after that day we were inseparable. Throughout my stay I begin going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming and I never saw him again. I asked the other kids and even the nurses but I never got an answer on if he was released or died from his sickness. My dream became to help others like him, whose wings had been clipped and whose shelter became the bird cage they were confined to. The scar on my stomach reminds me of him and the resulting sadness pushes me to go through with my dream of becoming a NICU Nurse to help infants who are critically hospitalized like we were. After 8 years of hiding my story and scar, I found the courage to share my story with others by writing it and submitting it to be published in the school newspaper. Since my story has been published, I have received kind comments under my article stating things like, "thanks for sharing your experience and choosing to help others because of it".

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The fluid was as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The technician began circling the device around and her face dropped. She exited out of the curtain and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until my parents were escorted in front of the curtain and I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside of my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids, I took medicine every few hours, and had an emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain and the nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right side of my abdomen, at each side a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches once and for all. By this time, the machines stopped beeping and the wires were no longer attached to me, I had no more pain in my abdomen, and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. My hospital stay allowed me to meet a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. I quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster trucks and after that day we were inseparable. Throughout my stay I begin going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming and I never saw him again. I asked the other kids and even the nurses but I never got an answer on if he was released or died from his sickness. My dream became to help others like him, whose wings had been clipped and whose shelter became the bird cage they were confined to. The scar on my stomach reminds me of him and the resulting sadness pushes me to go through with my dream of becoming a NICU Nurse to help infants who are critically hospitalized like we were. After 8 years of hiding my story and scar, I found the courage to share my story with others by writing it and submitting it to be published in the school newspaper. Since my story has been published, I have received kind comments under my article stating things like, "thanks for sharing your experience and choosing to help others because of it".

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

My name is De’juh Hickman and I am a college freshman at Palm Beach State College who is majoring in nursing. I am currently a member of the Associates Degree in Nursing(ADN) program and I hope to graduate in 2026 and become a NICU nurse. After becoming a nurse I hope to transfer over to the Bachelor’s Degree program for my last 2 years of college to gain my Bachelor’s of Science in Nursing(BSN) Degree. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t caring for us as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

Whether the lights were off or the car needed an oil change, pills were always the main priority. Excuses, excuses, excuses, they were always told but the pills were still being consumed, I waited years but sobriety never came. Year after year, I would blow out the candles and wish for the pill bottles to be put down and the perfect father to return. Whether it was selling stamps, borrowing money, or pawning electronics, he would always find a way to obtain money for pills. In 2016, my father begin using all of his money to purchase the newest pain pills on the market, resulting in none of the bills being paid, our car breaking down, and getting kicked out of our house. We went from being a family of 5 in a 4 bedroom house to a family of 4 living in 1 room and sharing the remaining parts of the house with an older couple. My brother was lucky enough to live with his grandmother and grandfather and his life became going from work to home and repeating it everyday as the year went on; My sister on the other hand, attempted to deter me from the reality of our living situation, she would always take me to the park and buy me anything that I wanted. My mom became a shadow of her former self, her eyes darkened and her smile looked as if it had been sewn onto her face. I got through the next 2 years by telling myself that I will get through whatever obstacles threw themselves at me and replacing my sadness with happiness and my anger with hope. A key lesson that I learned during my childhood was to use what I had and never resent those who had more. From the age of 7, my dad always told me that “coins are still money”. If I collected I could cash it in and buy whatever my heart desired. I saved up more and more money and I was able to purchase my own school supplies and even some of my clothes and accessories. Before finding a house of our own, we couch hopped then went from Motel to Motel. Finally, we moved into a 5 bedroom house on January 17, 2017 that would result in my family being together again and everyone having their own rooms. I thought my father would focus more on supporting his family but he didn't, he wasn't paying rent and the landlord threatened to kick us out. My brother began paying for everything and has been ever since, from him I learned to always persevere through challenges by putting a smile on my face and never letting anything stop me from achieving my goals. I am now a freshman at Palm Beach State College who will gain an Associates degree in Nursing and aid in the diversification of the healthcare field. People of color like myself joining the field will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe and ensure that children have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. I will prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in a professional manner that meets their needs and does not single out anyone.

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

I would watch “Romeo + Juliet” for all of eternity if possible. It’s a romantic tragedy movie that retells the story of William Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet” play. The Montagues and the Capulets have never gotten along, they have been feuding for as long as time. The hatred is being passed down to their children who are taught to never trust someone from the opposing family. Benvolio and Romeo crash the Capulet’s party, he sees Juliet when he goes to the restroom, and her captivating eyes and alluring essence immediately lure him in. The love between a Capulet and a Montague brings death, suicide, and sadness to Fair, Verona. The movie’s display of love and its effect on the human mind is immensely intriguing. The relationship between Romeo and Juliet shows that the love in one’s heart will outweigh all hate, they were taught to despise each other from an early age, and even after finding out the true identities of each other, they continue to let their love prosper. The power of love is shown in the play due to Romeo and Juliet’s willingness to run away and even die if it meant that they could openly express their affection in the afterlife. Luhrman adapts the movie for it to include a blend of modern-day and old-fashioned periods. Rather than two ordinary wealthy suburban families, the Montagues and the Capulets are competing rival gangs who use guns rather than swords. The use of a modern weapon generates suspense and excitement, the watcher can see threats, violent shootings, and death arise in both families due to hatred and the realization of Romeo and Juliet’s unconditional love. At the beginning of the film, a news reporter is broadcasting about the deaths of Romeo and Juliet on television. I love that Luhrman used this as a way of foreshadowing the movie’s ending and beginning the movie with how news is still being received today. The introduction of early modern English, fashion, ideas on marriage, and party costumes display the contemporary style of the decade and how the people of this decade differed in how they lived their everyday lives. I love that the movie is a blend of old-fashioned and modern-day times allowing people of different generations to relate to it and observe how older generations lived their day-to-day lives. The film toys with the timeless problems of human beings of any decade: forbidden love, toxic parents, mental health, suicide, rebellious teen years, and feeling that one has failed as a parent. Regardless of the generation or age of a person, a majority of people will relate to suffering with something that revolves around one of these topics. “Romeo + Juliet” includes timeless themes and topics that people of all ages and social classes can relate to/learn from. The movie itself doesn’t revolve around the stereotypical ideal old-fashioned family, it shows that almost every family has flaws that have the potential to advance and make the entire family dynamic crumble. Overall, it’s an astonishing and thrilling film that I will continue to rewatch, I would even be willing to make it the only film that I watch for the rest of my life. I love that the film takes William Shakespeare’s play and throws a bit of modern language and concepts into it to form a timeless, riveting, and complex display of love and intimacy.

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

My name is De’juh Hickman and I am a senior at Santaluces Community High School who is a member of the Medical Sciences Academy and staff writer of the school newspaper. I hope to become a NICU nurse and healthcare apparel business owner while continuing to showcase my love of volunteering and caring for others. In December of 2021, I became certified in performing adult and infant CPR. During my sophomore year of High School, I was enrolled in an Emergency Medical Responder class which focused on the roles, responsibilities, and daily life of healthcare professionals. Passing scores on the physical exam(performing CPR on adult and infant mannequins) and paper exam were necessary to earn your CPR card. Many of my classmates struggled when it came to passing the physical aspect of their certification exam. I practiced with them every day during class, and our hard work paid off. Each of the students I practiced with passed their exams and earned their cards. In return for my help, my teacher gave me community service hours. In 2022, I participated in the Jrotc Academy car wash. I washed and dried cars and held up signs in front of the School to promote the car wash. The driver of each car paid $5, which helped to save up for the Military ball(an annual formal event that JROTC Academy students and their plus-one attend to enjoy dancing, eating German meals, and interacting with each other). In November of 2023, the Big Red Bus came onto my high school’s campus to collect blood from willing participants. In return for donating, each student was offered a free Oneblood blanket, free refreshments, and a wellness checkup(blood pressure, pulse, temperature, iron count, and cholesterol screening). I donated blood and wrote a promotional newspaper article for the school newspaper website. My goal was to get as many students as possible to donate for the sake of the people receiving the blood and also to raise more money towards the resulting scholarships that are rewarded to seniors like myself who are members of the Medical Sciences Academy. During my sophomore and junior years of High School, I donated my scrubs to the less fortunate and gained 30 community service hours. My main focus was helping my peers who couldn't afford to purchase scrubs. Each year I purchased 2 pairs of scrubs, one for me to wear throughout the year and the other for me to donate during the last month of school. Volunteering at Oktoberfest taught me about the beauty of German culture and how it can be compared and differentiated from others. Foods/drinks that are offered include hot dogs, potato pancakes, tea, pretzels, butterbeer, pork shanks, bratwurst, goulash, red cabbage, mashed potatoes, pilsner, pasta, brotchen, black forest cake, and jägerschnitzel. I was able to serve many of these meats and sides and use my experience to write an article for the school newspaper that promoted a volunteer opportunity that would allow other students to engage in German culture without having to worry about traveling expenses. I hoped to help students learn about a fun learning and community service opportunity that would result in students fulfilling their graduation requirement.

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

My name is De’juh Hickman and I am a senior at Santaluces Community High School who is a member of the Medical Sciences Academy and staff writer of the school newspaper. After graduating from high school in May of 2024, I plan to enroll in a 4-year community college/universities nursing program from 2024 to 2028. Upon graduating from this college/university, I will obtain my Bachelors of Science in Nursing(BSN) degree then take my National Council Licensure Examination(NCLEX). After successfully passing the NCLEX I will have the opportunity of applying to hospitals near me and becoming the NICU nurse that I have always dreamed of being. I also plan to become a healthcare apparel business owner while continuing to showcase my love of volunteering and caring for others. As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

With my mother being unemployed for over a decade and my father choosing to spend his income on pain pills, saving up towards my education was always put on the back burner. Rent, bills, utilities, and housing accommodations were and are still being handled by my brother. Whether the lights were off or the car needed an oil change, pills were always the main priority. Excuses, excuses, excuses, they were always told but the pills were still being consumed, I waited for years but sobriety never came. Year after year, I would blow out the candles and wish for the pill bottles to be put down and the perfect father to return. Whether it was selling stamps, borrowing money, or pawning electronics, he would always find a way to obtain money for pills. Although I’m not a first generation college student, I will be the first out of my siblings to attend college and earn a degree. My brother graduated from high school in 2010 and my sister graduated in 2016. Financial circumstances were better when my brother graduated but reached a peak of decline as my sister's senior year inched closer. They got their first jobs at 16 and used them to push themselves through high school and purchase anything that they needed. Unfortunately the ability to work during my highschool years has been denied by my mother, we haven’t had a car in over 2 years and have been taking uber’s or walking. As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

With my mother being unemployed for over a decade and my father choosing to spend his income on pain pills, saving up towards my education was always put on the back burner. Rent, bills, utilities, and housing accommodations were and are still being handled by my brother. Whether the lights were off or the car needed an oil change, pills were always the main priority. Excuses, excuses, excuses, they were always told but the pills were still being consumed, I waited for years but sobriety never came. Year after year, I would blow out the candles and wish for the pill bottles to be put down and the perfect father to return. Whether it was selling stamps, borrowing money, or pawning electronics, he would always find a way to obtain money for pills. In 2016, everything went downhill for my family as I remained in the dark. My father used all of his money to purchase the newest pain pills on the market, resulting in none of the bills being paid, our car breaking down, and getting kicked out of our house. We went from being a family of 5 in a 4 bedroom house to a family of 4 living in a room with 2 beds and a single closet, not to mention having to share the bathroom and kitchen with an older couple. My brother was lucky enough to live with his grandmother and grandfather, his life became going from work to home and repeating it everyday as the year went on; My sister on the other hand, attempted to deter me from the reality of our living situation, she would always take me to the park and buy me anything that I wanted. My mom became a shadow of her former self, her eyes darkened and her smile looked as if it had been sewn onto her face. I got through the next 2 years by telling myself that I will get through whatever obstacles threw themselves at me and replacing my sadness with happiness and my anger with hope. Before finding a house of our own, we couch hopped then went from Motel to Motel. Finally, we moved into a 5 bedroom house on January 17, 2017 that would result in my family being together again and everyone having their own rooms. I thought my father would focus more on supporting his family but he didn't, he wasn't paying rent and the landlord threatened to kick us out. My brother began paying for everything and has been ever since, from him I learned to always persevere through challenges by putting a smile on my face and never letting anything stop me from achieving my goals. My goal is to stop allowing myself to become a victim of my father’s addiction and mother’s pride. I will be the first in my family to enter the healthcare field and earn a bachelor’s degree, as well as complete a full 4 years of college. I understand that having an addict in the family can be overwhelming, but I refuse to continue to let my father’s financial shortcomings affect the education that I wish to pursue and the future I look forward to. I hope to provide for my own family more than my family has for me and give my children everything that I wasn’t able to have growing up. I am willing to work the hardest that I ever worked in my entire life to stop the generational cycle of being financially irresponsible and dependent.

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? More people of color like myself entering the field will lead to a greater diverse representation which will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that younger generations have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. It can be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The fluid was as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The technician began circling the device around and her face dropped. She exited out of the curtain and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until my parents were escorted in front of the curtain and I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside of my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids, I took medicine every few hours, and had an emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain and the nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right side of my abdomen, at each side a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches once and for all. By this time, the machines stopped beeping and the wires were no longer attached to me, I had no more pain in my abdomen, and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. My hospital stay allowed me to meet a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. I quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster trucks and after that day we were inseparable. Throughout my stay I begin going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming and I never saw him again. I asked the other kids and even the nurses but I never got an answer on if he was released or died from his sickness. My dream became to help others like him, whose wings had been clipped and whose shelter became the bird cage they were confined to. The scar on my stomach reminds me of him and the resulting sadness pushes me to go through with my dream of becoming a NICU Nurse to help infants who are critically hospitalized like we were. After 8 years of hiding my story and scar, I found the courage to share my story with others by writing it and submitting it to be published in the school newspaper. Since my story has been published, I have received kind comments under my article stating things like, "thanks for sharing your experience and choosing to help others because of it".

My name is De’juh Hickman and I am a senior at Santaluces Community High School who is a member of the Medical Sciences Academy and staff writer of the school newspaper. I hope to become a NICU nurse and healthcare apparel business owner while continuing to showcase my love of volunteering and caring for others. At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? More people of color like myself entering the healthcare field will lead to a greater diverse representation in healthcare which will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? More people of color like myself entering the healthcare field will lead to a greater diverse representation in healthcare which will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

My name is De'juh Hickman and I am a passionate and devoted senior at Santaluces Community High School. I am in my 4th year of being in the Medical Sciences Academy and I enjoy engaging in volunteer activities such as car washes and festivals. If I’m not flipping through the pages of the newest book on the market, you can find me creating decorations/fashion items or writing. As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? I dream of becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Nurse. It may sound absurd but I developed this passion at an early age due to watching “Doc McStuffins” as a child. Doc McStuffins is a 6-year-old girl with a wild imagination, she has a playhouse clinic where she fixes any problems the toys have, whether this may be a missing battery or lack of stuffing. Her ability to heal her “patients” pushed me to develop a want to become a healthcare professional just like her. I will nurture every patient and ensure that they become the healthiest and happiest babies possible. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? More people of color like myself entering the healthcare field will lead to a greater diverse representation in healthcare which will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

Volunteering at Oktoberfest taught me about the beauty of German culture and how it can be compared and differentiated from others. Foods/drinks that are offered include hot dogs, potato pancakes, tea, pretzels, butterbeer, pork shanks, bratwurst, goulash, red cabbage, mashed potatoes, pilsner, pasta, brotchen, black forest cake, and jägerschnitzel. I was able to serve many of these meats and sides and use my experience to write an article for the school newspaper that promoted a volunteer opportunity that would allow other students to engage in German culture without having to worry about traveling expenses. I hoped to help students learn about a fun learning and community service opportunity that would result in students fulfilling their graduation requirement. In November of 2023, the Big Red Bus came onto my high school’s campus to collect blood from willing participants. In return for donating, each student was offered a free Oneblood blanket, free refreshments, and a wellness checkup(blood pressure, pulse, temperature, iron count, and cholesterol screening). I donated blood and wrote a promotional newspaper article for the school newspaper website. My goal was to get as many students as possible to donate for the sake of the people receiving the blood and also to raise more money towards the resulting scholarships that are rewarded to seniors like myself who are members of the Medical Sciences Academy. During my sophomore and junior years of High School, I donated my scrubs to the less fortunate and gained 30 community service hours. My main focus was helping my peers who couldn't afford to purchase scrubs. Each year I purchased 2 pairs of scrubs, one for me to wear throughout the year and the other for me to donate during the last month of school. In 2022, I participated in the Jrotc Academy car wash. I washed and dried cars and held up signs in front of the School to promote the car wash. The driver of each car paid $5, which helped to save up for the Military ball(an annual formal event that JROTC Academy students and their plus-one attend to enjoy dancing, eating German meals, and interacting with each other). For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

My aunt invited me to my little cousin’s birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese. My grandma picked me up and had loads of candy for me to eat on the way. I was telling her about my classes, teachers, and friends but little did I know all of these things were at risk of being stripped away from me. I ran in and the wristlet was put on my arm, I looked back at my grandma, who nodded her head as a way of saying “yes” for me to play. My cousins and I began running around and getting on rides. After five or six rides, we were called over to sing happy birthday to my little cousin, who looked happier than ever to eat cake and celebrate with Chucky. After eating, I began feeling nauseous due to a slight pain in my lower abdomen. I attempted to ignore this feeling because I didn’t want to ruin anyone’s night or cause my grandma to leave early. While in immense pain, I was still putting a big smile on my face and getting on rides. The last ride swung up and down making the pain unbearable and after leaving it, I could barely walk. I told everyone that I wasn’t feeling well and decided to sit down for a second. I had no choice but to lay my head on the table and hold my abdomen because it felt like I was being cut from the inside out. I arrived home and changed into my pajamas. The bubblegum-pink medicine poured into my mouth and flowed down my esophagus. I then fell asleep, gripping my abdomen with tears yet again. I could only hope that the medicine would be the key to my life becoming normal again. Day 1: I couldn’t eat, sleep, or drink anything. I began to notice that I could no longer lay on my right side, it felt like an electric eel was sliding through the bottom of my abdomen, causing the pain to electrify every second. Day 2: I couldn’t go outside and play with my friends nor could I spend time with my family. This day is when I began vomiting all over my house, yet another symptom of my “upset stomach.” Day 3: My parents finally had enough. I begged and begged to stay home that night but I was told no. My parents informed me that they were going to take me to Bethesda Hospital. On the way, my tears were flowing like a waterfall, they had stained my shirt and the blanket that my mother had wrapped around me. I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The fluid was as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The technician began circling the device around and her face dropped. She exited out of the curtain and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until my parents were escorted in front of the curtain and I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside of my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids, I took medicine every few hours, and had an emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain and the nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right side of my abdomen, at each side a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches once and for all. By this time, the machines stopped beeping and the wires were no longer attached to me, I had no more pain in my abdomen, and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. My hospital stay allowed me to meet a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. I quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster trucks and after that day we were inseparable. Throughout my stay I begin going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming and I never saw him again. I asked the other kids and even the nurses but I never got an answer on if he was released or died from his sickness. My dream became to help others like him, whose wings had been clipped and whose shelter became the bird cage they were confined to. The scar on my stomach reminds me of him and the resulting sadness pushes me to go through with my dream of becoming a NICU Nurse to help infants who are critically hospitalized like we were.

With my mother being unemployed for over a decade and my father choosing to spend his income on pain pills, saving up towards my education was always put on the back burner. Rent, bills, utilities, and housing accommodations were and are still being handled by my brother. Whether the lights were off or the car needed an oil change, pills were always the main priority. Excuses, excuses, excuses, they were always told but the pills were still being consumed, I waited for years but sobriety never came. I spent my entire childhood wishing that my father would put down the pill bottles and become the perfect family man he was prior. In 2016, everything went downhill for my family as I remained in the dark. My father used all of his money to purchase the newest pain pills on the market, resulting in none of the bills being paid, our car breaking down, and getting kicked out of our house. We went from being a family of 5 in a 4 bedroom house to a family of 4 living in a room with 2 beds and a single closet, not to mention having to share the bathroom and kitchen with an older couple. My brother was lucky enough to live with his grandmother and grandfather, his life became going from work to home and repeating it everyday as the year went on; My sister on the other hand, attempted to deter me from the reality of our living situation, she would always take me to the park and buy me anything that I wanted. My mom became a shadow of her former self, her eyes darkened and her smile looked as if it had been sewn onto her face. I got through the next 2 years by telling myself that I will get through whatever obstacles threw themselves at me and replacing my sadness with happiness and my anger with hope. Before finding a house of our own, we couch hopped then went from Motel to Motel. Finally, we moved into a 5 bedroom house on January 17, 2017 that would result in my family being together again and everyone having their own rooms. I thought my father would focus more on supporting his family but he didn't, he wasn't paying rent and the landlord threatened to kick us out. My brother began paying for everything and has been ever since, from him I learned to always persevere through challenges by putting a smile on my face and never letting anything stop me from achieving my goals. My goal is to stop allowing myself to become a victim of my father’s addiction and mother’s pride. I will be the first in my family to enter the healthcare field and earn a bachelor’s degree, as well as complete a full 4 years of college. I understand that having an addict in the family can be overwhelming, but I refuse to continue to let my father’s financial shortcomings affect the education that I wish to pursue and the future I look forward to. I have dreams of being able to provide for myself by doing things such as buying a car and house. I also have goals of being in a happy, loving marriage and having children. I will provide for my own family more than my family has for me and give my children everything that I wasn’t able to have growing up. I am willing to work the hardest that I ever worked in my entire life to stop the generational cycle of being financially irresponsible and dependent.

With my mother being unemployed for over a decade and my father choosing to spend his income on pain pills, saving up towards my education was always put on the back burner. Rent, bills, utilities, and housing accommodations were and are still being handled by my brother. Whether the lights were off or the car needed an oil change, pills were always the main priority. Excuses, excuses, excuses, they were always told but the pills were still being consumed, I waited for years but sobriety never came. I spent my entire childhood wishing that my father would put down the pill bottles and become the perfect family man he was prior. Although I’m not a first generation college student, I will be the first out of my siblings to attend college and earn a degree. My brother graduated from high school in 2010 and my sister graduated in 2016. Financial circumstances were better when my brother graduated but reached a peak of decline as my sister's senior year inched closer. She had no choice but to get a job at 16 and support herself and so did my brother. They got their first jobs at 16 and used them to push themselves through high school and purchase anything that they needed, whether it be school uniforms, supplies, or their cap and gown. Unfortunately the ability to work during my highschool years has been denied by my mother, we haven’t had a car in over 2 years and have been taking uber’s or walking everywhere. I hope to get a job during March or April of this year but that will only happen if my father doesn’t use up the income tax money to purchase pills. After graduation, my goal is to stop allowing myself to become a victim of my father’s addiction and mother’s pride. I will be the first in my family to enter the healthcare field and earn a bachelor’s degree, as well as complete a full 4 years of college. I understand that having an addict in the family can be overwhelming, but I refuse to continue to let my father’s financial shortcomings affect the education that I wish to pursue and the future I look forward to. I have dreams of being able to provide for myself by doing things such as buying a car and house. I also have goals of being in a happy, loving marriage and having children. I will provide for my own family more than my family has for me and give my children everything that I wasn’t able to have growing up. I am willing to work the hardest that I ever worked in my entire life to stop the generational cycle of being financially irresponsible and dependent. The one requirement from my parents in terms of education is that we have to get a high school diploma. I hoped to overdue my end of the bargain by excelling in my classes throughout my high school years and attempting to be involved in as many community service/volunteer activities as possible. I have been involved in my high school’s medical sciences academy which has allowed me to gain a variety of certifications and 150 clinical hours. I have a cumulative gpa of 3.5 and over 150 community service hours that include volunteering at Oktoberfest, washing and drying cars at the JROTC car wash, donating blood to the OneBlood organization, donating scrubs to underclassmen, and helping teachers and staff around the school. As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? More people of color like myself entering the healthcare field will lead to a greater diverse representation in healthcare which will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

Annually, clips of celebrities posing and showcasing their eye-catching outfits raid every social media platform known to man. These videos give many creators the inspiration to create and upload humor-packed videos that feature the adoring and criticizing of outfits that are deemed as iconic, tacky, basic, trendy etc. Out of every year that the Met Gala has taken place with all of its differing themes and celebrities of different eras in attendance, the most notable is the 2022 In America: An Anthology of Fashion theme. Billie Eilish wore a cream and green silk Gucci gown. Jaws dropped as she graced the red carpet with her dark hair, pale skin, and ocean eyes. The dark hair brings out her eyes and doesn’t clash with the color of the dress. The choker style necklace showcases a sneak peak at Billie’s everyday wear without the worry of taking attention away from the extravagant dress that is framing her figure. The makeup and neutral nails appear as if the fabric from the bottom portion of the dress had been color matched to her lips and nail beds. The top of the dress gives off an hourglass figure vibe, which pays tribute to the gilded age and other time periods where women snatched their waists to appear as small as possible and their bottom half to appear more full. The Bailey sisters wore matching Rodarte looks, they looked like angels with their skin shining and their dresses falling to showcase their figures. Chloe’s dress looks as if glue were thrown on it then it was drowned in gold craft glitter and the wings on her neck and shoes on her feet are different colors. A dress displaying her natural figure would have allowed this look to gain a higher rating in my books. The dress makes it look like her breasts are a different size and have varying locations on her chest. As for Halle, the neckline of the dress looks as if diamond wrap were glued together then wrapped around her neck and the dress itself doesn’t know whether it wants to focus on sequence, flowers, or sheer/mesh fabric. The arm fabric is too extra and takes attention away from the dress that is already overly flashy. Cardi B appeared on the carpet in a golden chain versace gown with gloves, necklaces, and earrings to tie it all together. The versace symbol being displayed all over the chains on her neck and body is iconic, when people think of rappers they think of men and women who are covered in big and flashy cuban links and priceless watches with thousands of diamonds. I feel that the dress is a creative way of showing that chains can be classy and extravagant just as much as any other piece of jewelry being worn around someone’s neck or wrist. The gloves add onto the beauty and uniqueness of the dress and all of the gold jewelry on her nails, fingers,and arms bring out her tan skin and the various gold chains draped across her body. Fredrik Robertsson's outfit reminds me of a fish skeleton. The gray and black ombre and stiff, unflattering shape of the bottom of the outfit makes me think of a fish that has been cut in half. The top portion of the dress looks really weird, it reminds me of a project model that I would see in a science class. It looks like someone dyed q-tips and sewing pins in different colors then glued them in a pattern arrangement.

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. Decades later, we are free from the chains and whips that terrorized our ancestors, but not the horrendous acts of white supremacy, racism, and discrimination being committed against us. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that the color of someone’s skin shouldn’t determine how they are treated, a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone due to the color of their skin. Taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine, before every appointment she would buy me Bud's Chicken & Seafood for me to eat in the waiting room then on the way home we would shop at the nearby Plaza’s. After a while we began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down on her. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor my mother admitted her into a nearby geriatric care facility where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was already huge but seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. For the next few months, my grandmother would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to bathe or move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses would ask us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers of my grandmother. They even began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. In August of 2024, I will officially become a member of an associates program which will allow me to gain an associates degree in 2026 then transfer to the bachelors degree program and earn my degree in 2028. I hope that one day I will bring comfort to people of color like myself who grew up with their heads being filled with stereotypes about the healthcare system and its employees.

“13 Reasons Why” by Jay Asher is the most eye opening and emotional teen drama book known to man. It features teenagers who suffer from having/experiencing mental health issues, victim blaming, abuse, peer pressure, addiction, isolation, suicidal thoughts, bullying, cat calling, survivors guilt, family issues, self harm, sexual assault, financial instability, fake friends, and rape. While a majority of people contradict younger generations' feelings by saying that they are too young to have suicidal thoughts or suffer mentally, the book snaps readers back into reality by showing that people can plaster smiles on their faces during their everyday lives for others to view them as what they wish to be or want others to see. Hannah Baker faces difficult turning points in her life that cause her to commit suicide and leave behind cassette tapes that describe the reasons why. The book allows readers to learn about possible triggers and their results in order to think twice before bullying or making negative comments about others. The book shows that an individual can be killed emotionally/mentally long before their body is deemed deceased. The blood may not physically lie on an individual's hand but fingers will be pointed. Children are taught to speak to a trusted adult if they are having negative thoughts or feel “odd”. Hannah warned her classmates, teacher, and principal about her suicidal thoughts and all they did was ignore her and make everything seem normal. While talking to adults for a sense of security may be what we are taught, this book is a clear display of this not always being a choice for everyone. Some people may not have a trusted person in their lives or someone that truly cares about them enough to prevent such a life changing outcome from occurring. Hannah’s story sends a message to readers that it's okay to ask for help but it may not always be the best choice or even a choice at all. After reading the novel, readers can watch the 4 season television series on Netflix. The book allows readers to focus on Hannah's narration of the characters and clay reflecting on his memories with Hannah, while the show introduces the characters that are discussed in the tapes and shows how Hannah's death is affecting them. By watching the show and reading the book the reader can detect various differences and similarities while forming their own opinions.

After five or six rides, we were called over to sing happy birthday to my little cousin, who looked happier than ever to eat cake and celebrate with Chucky. I attempted to ignore the nauseous feeling in my stomach because I didn’t want to ruin anyone’s night or cause my grandma to leave early. The last ride seemed to make the pain unbearable, after leaving it I could barely walk. I had no choice but to hold my abdomen because it felt like I was being cut from the inside out. Day 1: I couldn't lay on my right side, it felt like an electric eel was sliding through my abdomen, causing the pain to electrify every second. Day 2: I couldn’t play with my friends nor spend time with my family. I began vomiting all over my house, yet another symptom of my “upset stomach.” Day 3: My parents informed me that they were taking me to Bethesda Hospital. My tears flowed like a waterfall, they stained my shirt and the blanket that my mother had wrapped around me. I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The fluid was as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The technician began circling the device around and her face dropped. She exited out of the curtain and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until my parents were escorted in front of the curtain and I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside of my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids, I took medicine every few hours, and had an emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain. The nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU) or pediatrics unit. Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right side of my abdomen, at each side a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches. By this time, the machines stopped beeping and the wires were no longer attached to me. I had no more pain in my abdomen and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. The scar from the surgery remains on the right side of my lower abdomen. To some, it may seem like a constant reminder of the torment I experienced, but to me, it's motivation towards becoming a NICU nurse to help infants who are critically hospitalized like I was.

It was a perfect day, I could feel the crisp air blowing through my hair and the sun coursing through my veins. It was a perfect day, the sun was glowing and the clouds were showing. It was a perfect day, the birds were chirping and my thoughts were enclosing. It was a perfect day, the saint would finally earn her splintered wings and no longer be hindered. My version of a perfect day resulted in tears piercing my eyes like acid and my hair becoming ragged like a lion. I could feel the fire coursing through my veins, attempting to take away my pain. I could see other buildings before me but still remained as high as I could be. I was on top of the world while my mind diverged from my thoughts. Gaining freedom was the only aspect of my perfect day that was delayed. I would finally be at peace as I become deceased, my soul would be set free like a phoenix rising from ashes. Looking below my feet allowed me to see some of the people who played a part in demolishing the Earth we reside on. A Raven was perched upon a nearby window seal. Its lovely feathers shone bright as light before it took flight. Another soon resided at its side and the birds flew away leaving me to be the only organism on display. I wished to soar just like these birds, for they looked as if there were no worry present in this dirty world. My mind betrays my feet as it wishes for my body to fly like an angel as the shameful thoughts exit out of my rupturing skull. I wished for my feet to let my body soar with the wind, for I could come back as a beautiful raven who’s thoughts couldn’t roar with time. As my body became one with the pavement, people screamed but their voices couldn’t be heard. Everything including the birds seemed to remain on a time loop until darkness consumed me. My family and friends were left speechless, they never thought that I would be capable of murdering an “innocent” soul. Her skull was broken beyond repair, if never before now there would be no room for her thoughts to inflict pain. She had become a victim of her mind without a key to break free. This is me, this is my wrongdoing, and most importantly my ending of a day that began as perfect but progressively became filled with havoc.

After five or six rides, we were called over to sing happy birthday to my little cousin, who looked happier than ever to eat cake and celebrate with Chucky. I attempted to ignore the nauseous feeling in my stomach because I didn’t want to ruin anyone’s night or cause my grandma to leave early. The last ride seemed to make the pain unbearable, after leaving it I could barely walk. I had no choice but to hold my abdomen because it felt like I was being cut from the inside out. Day 1: I couldn't lay on my right side, it felt like an electric eel was sliding through my abdomen, causing the pain to electrify every second. Day 2: I couldn’t play with my friends nor spend time with my family. I began vomiting all over my house, yet another symptom of my “upset stomach.” Day 3: My parents informed me that they were taking me to Bethesda Hospital. My tears flowed like a waterfall, they stained my shirt and the blanket that my mother had wrapped around me. I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The fluid was as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The technician began circling the device around and her face dropped. She exited out of the curtain and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until my parents were escorted in front of the curtain and I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside of my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids, I took medicine every few hours, and had an emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain. The nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU) or pediatrics unit. Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right side of my abdomen, at each side a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches. By this time, the machines stopped beeping and the wires were no longer attached to me. I had no more pain in my abdomen and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. The scar from the surgery remains on the right side of my lower abdomen. To some, it may seem like a constant reminder of the torment I experienced, but to me, it's motivation towards becoming a NICU nurse to help infants who are critically hospitalized like I was.

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? Mary Eliza Mahoney knew she wanted to be a nurse but nursing schools in the South were known for rejecting applications that belonged to black people. Attending school in the North would give Mahoney a higher chance at being accepted into a training program. As a teenager, Mahoney began working at the New England Hospital for Women and Children, a hospital with only women staff that worked together to care for injured/sick women and children. Here, Mahoney gained a greater understanding of the healthcare system by working for 15 years and switching to different jobs: chef, laundress, janitor, and nurse's aide. In 1878, 33-year-old Mahoney transferred to the hospital's graduate school. It consisted of a 16-month program that was hands-on and filled with lectures, it was known for being a hard program to complete due to the number of hours that needed to go into being in the program and its intense workload. Mahoney was among the 4 students out of 42 who completed the program in 1879. After completing the program, Mahoney decided to become a private nurse in hopes of experiencing less discrimination. Her patients loved that she was caring and hardworking, she continued to excel in the profession, and in 1896 she joined the Nurses Associated Alumnae of the United States and Canada (NAAUSC) which consisted of mainly white members who weren't welcoming to Mahoney and others like her. In 1908 Mahoney became a co-founder of the National Association of Colored Graduate Nurses (NACGN) and in 1909 she became the national chaplain. From 1911 to 1912, she served as the director of the Howard Orphanage Asylum. After 40 years of working as a private nurse and advocating for the fair treatment of blacks on a social and economic scale, Mahoney retired but continued to fight for women's rights. In 1920, she was also one of the first women to register to vote after the 19th Amendment had been passed. From age 77 to 80, she battled breast cancer before she gained her wings on January 4, 1926. After her death, she became a part of the Nursing Hall of Fame and National Women's Hall of Fame; her grave in Massachusetts became a memorial site. The Mary Mahoney Award is now given biennially to people who exhibit important contributions towards establishing equal opportunities for minorities who are involved in the nursing profession. I look up to Mahoney for being able to pave the way for current and future black nurses like myself who wish to be welcomed into a field that will openly welcome and honor us just as much as others. Her everlasting impact has aided nurses even after her death, the Mahoney Award is still being given to nurses today and many pro-black nurses associations are still standing that honor and admire black nurses across the world.

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The fluid was as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The technician began circling the device around and her face dropped. She exited out of the curtain and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until my parents were escorted in front of the curtain and I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside of my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids, I took medicine every few hours, and had an emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain and the nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right side of my abdomen, at each side a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches once and for all. By this time, the machines stopped beeping and the wires were no longer attached to me, I had no more pain in my abdomen, and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. My hospital stay allowed me to meet a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. I quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster trucks and after that day we were inseparable. Throughout my stay I begin going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming and I never saw him again. I asked the other kids and even the nurses but I never got an answer on if he was released or died from his sickness. My dream became to help others like him, whose wings had been clipped and whose shelter became the bird cage they were confined to. The scar on my stomach reminds me of him and the resulting sadness pushes me to go through with my dream of becoming a NICU Nurse to help infants who are critically hospitalized like we were. After 8 years of hiding my story and scar, I found the courage to share my story with others by writing it and submitting it to be published in the school newspaper. Since my story has been published, I have received kind comments under my article stating things like, "thanks for sharing your experience and choosing to help others because of it".

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone. I plan to use my career to create and promote my healthcare apparel business. My business will ship worldwide and it will sell handmade keychains, badge reels, t-shirts, and sweatshirts to any healthcare professionals who may desire them. There will be accessories and apparel for a variety of healthcare professionals, and I will take personalized orders from customers. By promoting on various social media platforms, I will inspire the younger generations to achieve their goals and obtain hard work and determination no matter how hard the obstacles may be. I will bring excitement to healthcare workers worldwide who feel that their work apparel will bring excitement to their patients/themselves.

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

As a black woman who has come from a line of many before me, I have felt pain but it’s not the same pain that my ancestors felt as whips cracked against their backs and tears flooded their eyes. Nor is it the same pain that people like Rosa Parks and W.E.B Du Bois felt as they advocated for the rights of our people and received threats from others in return. Racism, colorism, degradation, discrimination, and stereotyping have been affecting women and men who stood before me, but now these issues are spreading to our healthcare system. When someone is injured, they will likely either drive to a nearby care center or call 911, but what happens when healthcare professionals aren’t keeping us as safe as they should? At the age of 9, taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine. We began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor she was admitted into a geriatric care hospital where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was huge and seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. She would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses asked us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers. They began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. For decades the myth of black people being able to handle pain better due to less sensitive nerve endings and tougher skin has become more popular, others like my grandmother have been injured and treated in a less professional manner than other patients with different skin colors. No human should scream or cry in fear of being harmed at the hands of someone who has promised to care for them. Pain is a normal human emotion that everyone feels no matter their skin color, sexual orientation, age or weight, so why are healthcare professionals choosing to ignore it? A diverse representation in STEM careers will result in people of differing demographics feeling safe when going to hospitals and also ensure that little girls and boys have people that look like them while being face to face and not just on a technological device. When making decisions it can also be beneficial to have people of all different demographics coming together to agree on what's best for everyone as a whole to prevent bias. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone.

My name is De’juh Hickman and I am a senior at Santaluces Community High School who is a member of the Medical Sciences Academy and staff writer of the school newspaper. I hope to become a NICU nurse and healthcare apparel business owner while continuing to showcase my love of volunteering and caring for others. I will generate a positive impact by becoming an advocate for patients of color like my grandmother who are treated differently due to their skin color. When we speak up for ourselves we are called ghetto but when non POC do it they are praised. I want to prove that the color of someone’s skin shouldn’t determine how they are treated, a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat my patients and their parents in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and doesn’t allow anyone to be singled out from other patients who are under the care of myself or any of my coworkers. I didn’t learn how to pronounce any words that begin with “ch” or “sh” until the end of 5th grade. From 3rd to 5th grade, I was enrolled in speech and language courses that required me to be taken out of class and read for 15-20 minutes per day. I looked forward to going to the classroom each day because the teacher would let us fill up brown paper bags with toys, candy, and chips. I was always embarrassed when the teacher would call on me to read or answer questions because the other students would always laugh or try to correct my way of pronouncing words. Writing did something for me that I didn't think was possible. It allowed me to speak to my classmates and teachers without having to open my mouth. I filled up every piece of paper that I could find by writing down stories that I created in my head and the list of words that I couldn't pronounce over the years. My mother is a stay at home mom and my father is an addict who became addicted to pain pills after injuring himself on the job. Although my father goes to work every day from morning to night, all of the money that he earns is spent on buying pain pills. At the moment there are 4 months left until graduation and my parents have saved up $0 towards my education. I have been applying to scholarships constantly in hopes of earning money, as well as FAFSA. At the moment I have been unable to apply to any colleges/universities with application fees due to my parents struggling after paying for my senior pictures and cap and gown. We haven't had a car since 2022, but we have been able to borrow my uncle's truck or grandma's car every once in a while for "important"events. I take the bus to and from school, but other than that I walk or catch a ride with my friends. Without a car, I will be unable to commute to and from school, forcing online schooling to be my only option. The lack of a car has also caused my mother to prevent me from getting a job until March of 2024, which lessens the amount of money that I will be able to save towards my college tuition and anything else that I may need.

I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The fluid was as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The technician began circling the device around and her face dropped. She exited out of the curtain and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until my parents were escorted in front of the curtain and I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside of my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids, I took medicine every few hours, and had an emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain and the nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right side of my abdomen, at each side a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches once and for all. By this time, the machines stopped beeping and the wires were no longer attached to me, I had no more pain in my abdomen, and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. My hospital stay allowed me to meet a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. I quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster trucks and after that day we were inseparable. Throughout my stay I begin going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming and I never saw him again. I asked the other kids and even the nurses but I never got an answer on if he was released or died from his sickness. My dream became to help others like him, whose wings had been clipped and whose shelter became the bird cage they were confined to. The scar on my stomach reminds me of him and the resulting sadness pushes me to go through with my dream of becoming a NICU Nurse to help infants who are critically hospitalized like we were. After 8 years of hiding my story and scar, I found the courage to share my story with others by writing it and submitting it to be published in the school newspaper. Since my story has been published, I have received kind comments under my article stating things like, "thanks for sharing your experience and choosing to help others because of it".

Senior year will officially mark my last year as a child and “Childhood Gleams, Adulthood Screams” would be the perfect title for this chapter of my life that is waiting to be written. As a current senior, this is the last year that I will be considered a child and the year before I enter the world of adulthood and obtain responsibilities that I didn’t have during my adolescent and teen years. When I reminisce on my childhood I think of running up and down the street and going from friends house to friends house until the street lights came on. From the age of 5 to 10 everyday was the same routine: Wake up, go to school, do my homework, play outside with my friends, then settle down for the night and prepare for the same thing the next day . The weekends were my favorite. I would be able to go outside with my friends from morning until evening, we would have plenty of time to ride our bikes, watch movies, play games, dance, and talk about what’s new in our neighborhood. Some of my favorite memories from my childhood are when I first learned how to ride a bike and became a safety patrol officer and morning announcements spokeswoman for my elementary school. These are memories that will never be forgotten but always seem to shine/gleam in the back of my head. I chose the word gleams for the title because my childhood reminds me of a time when there was no worry in the world, little to no obstacles being thrown at me, and where I was steered away from the obstacles and reality of what my teenage and future adult life would bring. As a senior in highschool with 3 months left until graduation, I have been hit with worry about choosing which college/university I will attend, accessing me and my family’s financial status, choosing my college major that will determine my career for the rest of my life, and looking for a full time job to support myself throughout my college years and pay bills for my household. Within 3 months, I will be considered an adult legally meaning I can do things like move out of my parents house, vote, become eligible for jury duty etc. As a teenager who will turn 18 within a few months, the struggles and joys of adulthood are approaching me within the blink of an eye. Before I know it I will be entering the workforce as a full time employee and full time college student, buying my own car, and saving up money to move out of my parents house. I chose to personify adulthood in the title by stating that adulthood is screaming because it’s almost as if my childhood and teenage years have captured my future adulthood years and refuses to let go. It is already 2024, this is the year that I will enter my freshman year of college as a nursing major while having a full time job outside of school. I will also engage in senior activities such as attending prom, taking my senior pictures, and obtaining my diploma after walking the stage.

Taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine, before every appointment she would buy me Bud's Chicken & Seafood for me to eat in the waiting room then on the way home we would shop at the nearby Plaza’s. After a while we began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down on her. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor my mother admitted her into a nearby geriatric care facility where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was already huge but seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. For the next few months, my grandmother would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to bathe or move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses would ask us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers of my grandmother. They even began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. Martin Luther King Jr. once said “I have a dream that one day down in Alabama with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, one day right down in Alabama little Black boys and Black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers". He wished for blacks and whites to come together without fear of threats, hate crimes, and discrimination. Decades later, we are free from the chains and whips that terrorized our ancestors, but not the horrendous acts of white supremacy, racism, and discrimination being committed against us. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that the color of someone’s skin shouldn’t determine how they are treated, a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone due to the color of their skin.

My name is De’juh Hickman and I am a senior at Santaluces Community High School who is a member of the Medical Sciences Academy and staff writer of the school newspaper. I hope to become a NICU nurse and healthcare apparel business owner while continuing to showcase my love of volunteering and caring for others. Taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine, before every appointment she would buy me Bud's Chicken & Seafood for me to eat in the waiting room then on the way home we would shop at the nearby Plaza’s. After a while we began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down on her. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor my mother admitted her into a nearby geriatric care facility where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was already huge but seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. For the next few months, my grandmother would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to bathe or move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses would ask us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers of my grandmother. They even began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. Martin Luther King Jr. once said “I have a dream that one day down in Alabama with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, one day right down in Alabama little Black boys and Black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers". He wished for blacks and whites to come together without fear of threats, hate crimes, and discrimination. Decades later, we are free from the chains and whips that terrorized our ancestors, but not the horrendous acts of white supremacy, racism, and discrimination being committed against us. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that the color of someone’s skin shouldn’t determine how they are treated, a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone due to the color of their skin.

My name is De’juh Hickman and I am a senior at Santaluces Community High School who is a member of the Medical Sciences Academy and staff writer of the school newspaper. I hope to become a NICU nurse and healthcare apparel business owner while continuing to showcase my love of volunteering and caring for others. Taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine, before every appointment she would buy me Bud's Chicken & Seafood for me to eat in the waiting room then on the way home we would shop at the nearby Plaza’s. After a while we began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down on her. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor my mother admitted her into a nearby geriatric care facility where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was already huge but seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. For the next few months, my grandmother would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to bathe or move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses would ask us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers of my grandmother. They even began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. Martin Luther King Jr. once said “I have a dream that one day down in Alabama with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, one day right down in Alabama little Black boys and Black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers". He wished for blacks and whites to come together without fear of threats, hate crimes, and discrimination. Decades later, we are free from the chains and whips that terrorized our ancestors, but not the horrendous acts of white supremacy, racism, and discrimination being committed against us. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that the color of someone’s skin shouldn’t determine how they are treated, a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone due to the color of their skin.

My name is De’juh Hickman and I am a senior at Santaluces Community High School who is a member of the Medical Sciences Academy and staff writer of the school newspaper. I hope to become a NICU nurse and healthcare apparel business owner while continuing to showcase my love of volunteering and caring for others. Taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine, before every appointment she would buy me Bud's Chicken & Seafood for me to eat in the waiting room then on the way home we would shop at the nearby Plaza’s. After a while we began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down on her. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor my mother admitted her into a nearby geriatric care facility where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was already huge but seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. For the next few months, my grandmother would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to bathe or move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses would ask us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers of my grandmother. They even began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. Martin Luther King Jr. once said “I have a dream that one day down in Alabama with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, one day right down in Alabama little Black boys and Black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers". He wished for blacks and whites to come together without fear of threats, hate crimes, and discrimination. Decades later, we are free from the chains and whips that terrorized our ancestors, but not the horrendous acts of white supremacy, racism, and discrimination being committed against us. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that the color of someone’s skin shouldn’t determine how they are treated, a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone due to the color of their skin.

Taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine, before every appointment she would buy me Bud's Chicken & Seafood for me to eat in the waiting room then on the way home we would shop at the nearby Plaza’s. After a while we began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down on her. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor my mother admitted her into a nearby geriatric care facility where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was already huge but seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. For the next few months, my grandmother would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to bathe or move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses would ask us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers of my grandmother. They even began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. Martin Luther King Jr. once said “I have a dream that one day down in Alabama with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, one day right down in Alabama little Black boys and Black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers". He wished for blacks and whites to come together without fear of threats, hate crimes, and discrimination. Decades later, we are free from the chains and whips that terrorized our ancestors, but not the horrendous acts of white supremacy, racism, and discrimination being committed against us. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that the color of someone’s skin shouldn’t determine how they are treated, a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone due to the color of their skin.

My name is De’juh Hickman and I am a senior at Santaluces Community High School who is a member of the Medical Sciences Academy and staff writer of the school newspaper. I hope to become a NICU nurse and healthcare apparel business owner while continuing to showcase my love of volunteering and caring for others. Taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine, before every appointment she would buy me Bud's Chicken & Seafood for me to eat in the waiting room then on the way home we would shop at the nearby Plaza’s. After a while we began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down on her. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor my mother admitted her into a nearby geriatric care facility where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was already huge but seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. For the next few months, my grandmother would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to bathe or move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses would ask us to step out of the room to change her dressings. The hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers of my grandmother. They even began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. Martin Luther King Jr. once said “I have a dream that one day down in Alabama with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, one day right down in Alabama little Black boys and Black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers". He wished for blacks and whites to come together without fear of threats, hate crimes, and discrimination. Decades later, we are free from the chains and whips that terrorized our ancestors, but not the horrendous acts of white supremacy, racism, and discrimination being committed against us. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that the color of someone’s skin shouldn’t determine how they are treated, a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone due to the color of their skin.

Martin Luther King Jr. once said “I have a dream that one day down in Alabama with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, one day right down in Alabama little Black boys and Black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers". He wished for blacks and whites to come together without fear of threats, hate crimes, and discrimination. Decades later, we are free from the chains and whips that terrorized our ancestors, but not the horrendous acts of white supremacy, racism, and discrimination being committed against us. As a future NICU nurse one of my main priorities is to prove that the color of someone’s skin shouldn’t determine how they are treated, a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat every patient and parent in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and does not single out anyone due to the color of their skin. Community to me means people of differing demographics and cultures coming together to engage in a common act out of the kindness of their hearts. Members of a community are blinded by skin color but observe one's characteristics and eagerness to succeed and interact with others. I have worked to become an active member of my community by engaging in acts of community service and volunteering and I plan to throughout my life span. During my sophomore and junior years of highschool, I attended the annual Military Ball that is hosted at the American Country Club. For a total of 5 hours guests dance, eat, sing, and enjoy the announcements being made by cadets, sergeants, and Army Corps. While the thought of dressing up and eating delicious food is very fun, the behind the scenes funding portion of the event is where I come in. I participated in the JROTC academy car wash with tasks of washing cars, drying cars, and displaying promotional signs. The car wash was used to fund the military ball and gain an even greater opportunity of students and friends of the JROTC academy being given the option to volunteer at Oktoberfest. Volunteering at Oktoberfest taught me about the beauty of German culture and how it can be compared and differentiated from others. Foods/drinks that are offered include hot dogs, potato pancakes, tea, pretzels, butterbeer, pork shanks, bratwurst, goulash, red cabbage, mashed potatoes, pilsner, pasta, brotchen, black forest cake, and jägerschnitzel. I was able to serve many of these meats and sides and use my experience to write an article for the school newspaper that promoted a volunteer opportunity that would allow other students to engage in German culture without having to worry about traveling expenses. I hoped to help students learn about a fun learning and community service opportunity that would result in students fulfilling their graduation requirement. In November of 2023, the Big Red Bus came onto my high school’s campus to collect blood from willing participants. In return for donating, each student was offered a free Oneblood blanket, free refreshments, and a wellness checkup(blood pressure, pulse, temperature, iron count, and cholesterol screening). I donated blood and wrote a promotional newspaper article for the school newspaper website. My goal was to get as many students as possible to donate for the sake of the people receiving the blood and also to raise more money towards the resulting scholarships that are rewarded to seniors like myself who are members of the Medical Sciences Academy.

My name is De’juh Hickman and I am a senior at Santaluces Community High School who is a member of the Medical Sciences Academy and staff writer of the school newspaper. After graduating from high school in May of 2024, I plan to enroll in a 4-year community college/universities nursing program from 2024 to 2028. Upon graduating from this college/university, I will obtain my Bachelors of Science in Nursing(BSN) degree then take my National Council Licensure Examination(NCLEX). After successfully passing the NCLEX I will have the opportunity of applying to hospitals near me and becoming the NICU nurse that I have always dreamed of being. I also plan to become a healthcare apparel business owner while continuing to showcase my love of volunteering and caring for others. I have written newspaper articles that I can look back on for the rest of my life. Being a student of my high school’s journalism club/course allows me to write an article every week for my school’s newspaper website. So far I have written articles about movies and Tv shows, arts and crafts projects, scholarship websites, advice, the blood drive, school events, spirit week, and my peers. I will be able to look back on events from my senior year and see everything that I enjoyed at the time. When I was 9 years old, I was hospitalized for 6 weeks due to my appendix rupturing and spreading poison throughout my body. I had a total of 3 surgeries to remove my appendix from my body, implement tubes and bags at each side of my abdomen to draw out and collect fluid, and remove the tubes and bags. During my stay, I met a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair and quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster truck. I begin going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming and I never saw him again. Writing has allowed me to share my near death experience and become more confident in showing off my scar. I now have a published story in the school newspaper that allowed me to openly discuss my former friend and the challenges that I faced during my hospital stay. I didn’t learn how to pronounce any words that begin with “ch” or “sh” until the end of 5th grade. From 3rd to 5th grade, I was enrolled in speech and language courses that required me to be taken out of class and read for at least 15-20 minutes per day. I looked forward to going to the classroom each day because the teacher would let us fill up brown paper bags with toys, candy, and chips before walking back to class. The class itself was fun but I was always embarrassed when the teacher would call on me to read or answer questions because the other students would laugh or try to correct my way of pronouncing words. Writing did something for me that I didn't think was possible. It allowed me to speak to my classmates and teachers without having to open my mouth. I filled up every composition notebook and piece of loose leaf paper that I could find by writing down the stories that I created in my head and the list of words that I couldn't pronounce over the years.

After graduating from high school in May of 2024, I plan to enroll in a 4-year community college/universities nursing program from 2024 to 2028. Upon graduating from this college/university, I will obtain my Bachelors of Science in Nursing(BSN) degree then take my National Council Licensure Examination(NCLEX). After successfully passing the NCLEX I will have the opportunity of applying to hospitals near me and becoming the NICU nurse that I have always dreamed of being. As a member of my high school’s Medical Sciences Academy, I have completed and earned a passing score in the following courses: Health Science Foundations, Anatomy and Physiology, Emergency Medical Responder 3, Allied Health Assistant, and Pharmacy 7. I have currently earned 90 clinical hours at Walgreens Pharmacy and a nearby doctor's office, but I plan to obtain 62 additional hours before April 30, 2024. I have also obtained my BLS cpr certification, handwashing certification, CMAA certification and many more. Being a part of the medical academy has allowed me to receive presentations from future nurses/doctors who are enrolled at my dream university(FAU) and even ask any questions that I may have. Back in November, I was able to observe the daily tasks of a phlebotomist as I donated one pint of blood to the Big Red Bus, as well as raise awareness for the blood drive by writing a newspaper article that discussed the advantages of donating blood, the organizations to contact, and opinions from students. My mother is a stay at home mom and my father is an addict who became addicted to pain pills after injuring himself on the job. Although my father goes to work every day from morning to night, all of the money that he earns is spent on buying pain pills from dealers in Boynton and Delray Beach. At the moment there are 4 months left until graduation and my parents have saved up $0 towards my education. I have been applying to scholarships constantly in hopes of earning money, as well as FAFSA. At the moment I have been unable to apply to any colleges/universities with application fees due to my parents struggling after paying for my senior pictures and cap and gown. My mother is attempting to make me step away from attending FAU or any other universities because she thinks that we will be unable to cover the expenses, she disagrees with me having hope of winning scholarships or Fafsa and thinks that I should go to a cheaper community college like Palm Beach State. We haven't had a car since 2022, but we have been able to borrow my uncle's truck or grandma's car every once in a while for "important"events. I take the bus to and from school, but other than that I walk or catch a ride with my friends. Without a car, I will be unable to commute to and from school, forcing online schooling to be my only option. The lack of a car has also caused my mother to prevent me from getting a job until March of 2024, which lessens the amount of money that I will be able to save towards my college tuition and anything else that I may need.

My name is De’juh Hickman and I am a senior at Santaluces Community High School who is a member of the Medical Sciences Academy and staff writer of the school newspaper. I hope to become a NICU nurse and healthcare apparel business owner while continuing to showcase my love of volunteering and caring for others. Taking my grandmother to her monthly doctor’s appointments became a routine, before every appointment she would buy me Bud's Chicken & Seafood for me to eat in the waiting room then on the way home we would shop at the nearby Plaza’s. After a while we began to notice that she couldn’t move around in her bed or stand up on her own. My parents thought it was due to her age so they bought her a cane that allowed her to walk around without needing little to no support from anyone around her. Things went back to normal until she learned that her kidneys were in the process of shutting down on her. My family was heartbroken but began taking turns when it came to driving her to dialysis centers and follow up appointments. As advised by the doctor my mother admitted her into a nearby geriatric care facility where she could be monitored and visited on a daily basis. Months later, the nurses informed us that an open sore had formed on the outside of her buttocks, it was already huge but seemed to be expanding and causing more tissue to disintegrate and become raw. For the next few months, my grandmother would cry and hyperventilate whenever anyone would attempt to bathe or move her. I will never forget the screams that filled those 4 walls after the nurses would ask us to step out of the room to change her dressings. As the months progressed, the hospital began blaming the sore on my mother, godmother, and father who had been the previous caretakers of my grandmother. They even began calling her “overdramatic” and a “handful” whenever she would cry in pain or speak up for herself. I will generate a positive impact by becoming an advocate for patients of color like my grandmother who are treated differently due to their skin color. When we speak up for ourselves we are called ghetto but when non POC do it they are praised. I want to prove that the color of someone’s skin shouldn’t determine how they are treated, a patient is a patient no matter how they look. I vow to treat my patients and their parents in the way that I wished for my grandmother to be treated, in a professional manner that meets the needs of every patient and doesn’t allow anyone to be singled out from other patients who are under the care of myself or any of my coworkers. There is currently a nursing shortage, with more nurses leaving the field than joining it. Many nurses have been aestheticizing the field by posting videos of themselves dancing in the hospital and sitting around in their tight-fit scrubs to show off their figures. The idea of making money while filming videos to go viral on TikTok or Instagram has become popularized, many people don’t realize that nursing is more than just showing up to work in scrubs and showing off their pretty accessories. I hope that entering the medical field will allow me to show people that pursuing a career in this field means something, it shouldn't be used as a method of gaining views or becoming the most popular content creator.

There is currently a nursing shortage, with more nurses leaving the field than joining it. Many nurses have been aestheticizing the field by posting videos of themselves dancing in the hospital and sitting around in their tight-fit scrubs to show off their figures. The idea of making money while filming videos to go viral on TikTok or Instagram has become popularized, many people don’t realize that nursing is more than just showing up to work in scrubs and showing off their pretty accessories. As a nurse, having pretty accessories and gadgets will not aid in saving the lives of patients or leading them to recovery, the most you will get is a compliment or someone asking for the item's link. People go through all the years of schooling and earn their degree, but quit after seeing how hard and “unaesthetic” working in the field can be, they often switch to easier jobs that allow them to sit around and film themselves. The nursing shortage has caused an increased demand for nurses to enter the field, without this occurring there will likely be increased amounts of medical errors, patient mortality rates, overworked nurses, and overcrowded waiting areas due to fewer nurses being available to take on the role of caring for patients. The average nurse works 12-hour shifts 3 days a week. This work schedule will allow me to spend more time with my family and friends, acquire new hobbies, and ensure that I obtain a healthy mental status. I know that being a nurse can take a toll on one’s mental health, so a mental health day will become a weekly priority. This is a day filled with relaxing activities, such as journaling, shopping online, watching movies, obtaining a sufficient amount of sleep, creating a bucket list, and spending time with my family and friends. Nurses can work in a variety of different places such as Military bases and campsites. There are endless environments to choose from and even more opportunities available to interact with new people. I can work in different facilities or even become a Travel nurse and work in different areas across the world. Becoming a NICU nurse will allow me to advocate for infants, they don’t have a voice so they are unable to tell anyone about the pain or struggles they are having. As a NICU nurse, I will be tasked with understanding the needs of each infant and meeting their needs, for example figuring out why a baby is crying(hunger, dehydration, diaper change etc). Every patient is likely to have different needs that need to be met, meaning that I will have a variety of responsibilities to fulfill during every shift. The responsibilities of a NICU nurse are assisting with breastfeeding, administering medications, bottle feeding infants, attending deliveries, monitoring the progress of infants, providing basic care, and tracking the weight and growth of patients. Every time the topic of the healthcare system arises, my family members tend to discuss their opinions about hospitals “not caring about their patients” and “doing anything possible to gain more money”. I hope that becoming a part of a field that they deem as "dangerous" and "greedy" will show my family that healthcare workers don't have malicious intentions, instead, they are doing everything in their power to protect their patients and lead them to recovery. There is a wide variety of Nursing specialties, such as ER and oncology. After becoming a Registered Nurse(RN), you can choose a specialty that you enjoy, whether it revolves around infants, children, teenagers, or elderly patients. There are always new opportunities to switch specialties and adapt to new environments to meet personal needs.

Your mental health status is important no matter what age you are, you should always take care of yourself and your mental wellbeing. The mental health of an individual affects how they think, behave, and deal with situations. To me being healthy mentally means feeling happy and secure and completing my daily routine without constant stress or sadness. My mental health has been and always will be one of the most important and impactful aspects of my life. Without me being healthy mentally I wouldn’t be able to form new relationships or continue old ones, my friends and family mean the world to me and I couldn’t imagine isolating myself from them due to my mental status. If I am unhealthy mentally then it would almost be impossible for me to perform well on an academic scale. I have worked very hard to determine that my future will be bright and successful. I would only be disappointing myself and everyone who has played a role in my educational journey if I sacrificed my academic performance and achievement. Being healthy mentally is important to me because it ensures that I will make decisions that will likely be favorable for me in the future and won’t harm me or my peers. To maintain my mental well-being I have mental health days. This is a day filled with exciting activities that result in me feeling good about myself: Pedicures, watching my favorite movies, eating my favorite meals and snacks, obtaining a sufficient amount of sleep, cleaning my room, creating a bucket list, and getting caught up on any homework/classwork assignments. The little things always seem to make me feel better, whether this be rewarding myself with a chocolate bar or rewatching movies that significantly contributed to my childhood. I notice that my mental health typically tends to decline when I isolate myself from others, so I also love to spend time with my friends/family and participate in activities that we all enjoy: baking, cooking, going to the park, watching movies, and trying new foods. Recently I have learned that being calm and stress-free has positively impacted my mental well-being. I advocate for mental health in my community by writing articles each week that appear on my school's newspaper website. Almost every article features the discussion of a fun activity or something that involves school spirit/news. Mental health can be impacted by one's school life, home life, and lifestyle, so I do my best at making sure that I positively interact with everyone that I come in contact with and lend them a helping hand when needed. Overall, the mental health of an individual should be an active priority throughout their life span. Many hotlines, Therapists, and Doctors are available to help anyone who may be struggling mentally. Everyone deserves to live a healthy and happy life without having to live with an unhappy mindset. Don’t be afraid to speak up and reach out for the sake of yourself and your peers.

Your mental health status is important no matter what age you are, you should always take care of yourself and your mental wellbeing. The mental health of an individual affects how they think, behave, and deal with situations. To me being healthy mentally means feeling happy and secure and completing my daily routine without constant stress or sadness. My mental health has been and always will be one of the most important and impactful aspects of my life. Without me being healthy mentally I wouldn’t be able to form new relationships or continue old ones, my friends and family mean the world to me and I couldn’t imagine isolating myself from them due to my mental status. If I am unhealthy mentally then it would almost be impossible for me to perform well on an academic scale. I have worked very hard to determine that my future will be bright and successful. I would only be disappointing myself and everyone who has played a role in my educational journey if I sacrificed my academic performance and achievement. Being healthy mentally is important to me because it ensures that I will make decisions that will likely be favorable for me in the future and won’t harm me or my peers. To maintain my mental well-being I have mental health days. This is a day filled with exciting activities that result in me feeling good about myself: Pedicures, watching my favorite movies, eating my favorite meals and snacks, obtaining a sufficient amount of sleep, cleaning my room, creating a bucket list, and getting caught up on any homework/classwork assignments. The little things always seem to make me feel better, whether this be rewarding myself with a chocolate bar or rewatching movies that significantly contributed to my childhood. I notice that my mental health typically tends to decline when I isolate myself from others, so I also love to spend time with my friends/family and participate in activities that we all enjoy: baking, cooking, going to the park, watching movies, and trying new foods. Recently I have learned that being calm and stress-free has positively impacted my mental well-being. Overall, the mental health of an individual should be an active priority throughout their life span. Many hotlines, Therapists, and Doctors are available to help anyone who may be struggling mentally. Everyone deserves to live a healthy and happy life without having to live with an unhappy mindset. Don’t be afraid to speak up and reach out for the sake of yourself and your peers.

Your mental health status is important no matter what age you are, you should always take care of yourself and your mental wellbeing. The mental health of an individual affects how they think, behave, and deal with situations. To me being healthy mentally means feeling happy and secure and completing my daily routine without constant stress or sadness. My mental health has been and always will be one of the most important and impactful aspects of my life. Without me being healthy mentally I wouldn’t be able to form new relationships or continue old ones, my friends and family mean the world to me and I couldn’t imagine isolating myself from them due to my mental status. If I am unhealthy mentally then it would almost be impossible for me to perform well on an academic scale. I have worked very hard to determine that my future will be bright and successful. I would only be disappointing myself and everyone who has played a role in my educational journey if I sacrificed my academic performance and achievement. Being healthy mentally is important to me because it ensures that I will make decisions that will likely be favorable for me in the future and won’t harm me or my peers. To maintain my mental well-being I have mental health days. This is a day filled with exciting activities that result in me feeling good about myself: Pedicures, watching my favorite movies, eating my favorite meals and snacks, obtaining a sufficient amount of sleep, cleaning my room, creating a bucket list, and getting caught up on any homework/classwork assignments. The little things always seem to make me feel better, whether this be rewarding myself with a chocolate bar or rewatching movies that significantly contributed to my childhood. I notice that my mental health typically tends to decline when I isolate myself from others, so I also love to spend time with my friends/family and participate in activities that we all enjoy: baking, cooking, going to the park, watching movies, and trying new foods. Recently I have learned that being calm and stress-free has positively impacted my mental well-being. Overall, the mental health of an individual should be an active priority throughout their life span. Many hotlines, Therapists, and Doctors are available to help anyone who may be struggling mentally. Everyone deserves to live a healthy and happy life without having to live with an unhappy mindset. Don’t be afraid to speak up and reach out for the sake of yourself and your peers.

I plan to major in nursing and graduate in 2028. I will gain my Bachelor of Science in Nursing(BSN) degree and apply for the NCLEX(National Council Licensure Certification Examination) to gain a passing score and my nursing license. After becoming a Registered Nurse(RN) the option of applying to hospitals and gaining a spot in the NICU is available, I hope to gain experience on a hospital floor before becoming a NICU travel nurse. On 08/18/20 my Aunt Shirley was found lifeless in her hospital bed. During one of my last conversations with her, she said to become the provider that the world needs. Her wise words run through my mind almost every second of every day. They are used today as motivation to make sure that I enjoy every second of life and achieve my full potential. One of my favorite teachers, Mrs. Harms has become one of the kindest and most supportive role models due to her constant encouragement of me to excel in life. From day one, she has always shown her support for me in pursuing my desired career path, whether it be helping me research the required schooling or look into the colleges that I wish to attend. The phrase "no one is stopping you, but you" was told to me a while ago by Mrs.Harms and is used today as a constant reminder in my everyday life. The average nurse works 12-hour shifts 3 days a week. This work schedule will allow me to spend more time with my family and friends, acquire new hobbies, and ensure that I obtain a healthy mental status. I know that being a nurse can take a toll on one’s mental health, so a mental health day will become a weekly priority. This is a day filled with relaxing activities, such as journaling, shopping online, watching movies, obtaining a sufficient amount of sleep, creating a bucket list, and spending time with my family and friends. Nurses can work in a variety of different places such as Military bases and campsites. There are endless environments to choose from and even more opportunities available to interact with new people. I can work in different facilities or even become a Travel nurse and work in different areas across the world. According to Ziprecruiter.com, the annual NICU nurse salary in Florida is $100,529. Being financially stable will result in me being less stressed out, obtaining greater focus on other aspects of my life, living debt-free, and being able to experience financial freedom. I hope to spend a portion of my income on creating my own healthcare apparel business that will sell handmade keychains, badge reels, t-shirts, and sweatshirts to any healthcare workers who may desire them. Every time the topic of the healthcare system arises, my family members tend to discuss their opinions about hospitals “not caring about their patients” and “doing anything possible to gain more money”. I hope that becoming a part of a field that they deem as "dangerous" and "greedy" will show my family that healthcare workers don't have malicious intentions, instead, they are doing everything in their power to protect their patients and lead them to recovery. There is a wide variety of Nursing specialties, such as ER and oncology. After becoming a Registered Nurse(RN), you can choose a specialty that you enjoy, whether it revolves around infants, children, teenagers, or elderly patients. There are always new opportunities to switch specialties and adapt to new environments to meet personal needs. Every patient is likely to have different needs that need to be met, meaning that I will have a variety of responsibilities to fulfill during every shift. The responsibilities of a NICU nurse are assisting with breastfeeding, administering medications, bottle feeding infants, attending deliveries, monitoring the progress of infants, providing basic care, and tracking the weight and growth of patients. There is currently a nursing shortage, with more nurses leaving the field than joining it. Many nurses have been aestheticizing the field by posting videos of themselves dancing in the hospital and sitting around in their tight-fit scrubs to show off their figures. The idea of making money while filming videos to go viral on TikTok or Instagram has become popularized, many people don’t realize that nursing is more than just showing up to work in scrubs and showing off their pretty accessories. As a nurse, having pretty accessories and gadgets will not aid in saving the lives of patients or leading them to recovery, the most you will get is a compliment or someone asking for the item's link. People go through all the years of schooling and earn their degree, but quit after seeing how hard and “unaesthetic” working in the field can be, they often switch to easier jobs that allow them to sit around and film themselves. The nursing shortage has caused an increased demand for nurses to enter the field, without this occurring there will likely be increased amounts of medical errors, patient mortality rates, overworked nurses, and overcrowded waiting areas due to fewer nurses being available to take on the role of caring for patients. Becoming a NICU nurse will allow me to advance my collaboration skills. They often attend deliveries with Labor and Delivery nurses, Neonatal nurses, and Doctors to ensure that an infant’s body is functioning properly and that there is no need to transport them to the NICU. They can also work closely with Pediatricians, Neonatologists, Neonatal nurse practitioners, and unit clerks. As a team, the hospital staff will ensure that the babies are as healthy as possible and attempt to save/protect the infants if an emergency occurs. As a nurse, I will be able to switch up my work attire instead of re-washing the same uniform repeatedly. When purchasing scrubs, there are options to buy loose-fitting scrubs, tight-fitting scrubs, festive designs, and customized designs on websites like Etsy or eBay. Many people compare the fit of scrubs to pajamas, this is the perfect uniform to wear while standing on your feet for 12 hours. Scrubs also act as PPE(personal protective equipment) to protect against bodily fluids, thick scrubs will prevent body fluids from making direct contact with your skin. Nurses also have the option to wear almost any shoes they want. I will enjoy matching the color of my Crocs to my scrubs and even decorating them with healthcare-themed Jibbitz. Becoming a NICU nurse will allow me to advocate for infants, they don’t have a voice so they are unable to tell anyone about the pain or struggles they are having. As a NICU nurse, I will be tasked with understanding the needs of each infant and meeting their needs, for example figuring out why a baby is crying(hunger, dehydration, diaper change etc). I had a lingual frenectomy and umbilicoplasty a while back. All that I remember is everyone in the operating room singing songs with me, talking to me about their children and pets, and asking questions before the anesthesia took over. The lingual frenectomy was my first surgery. I remember crying after I learned that my parents couldn’t come back with me, but Nurse Ashley held my hand as she wheeled me down to the operating room. I have always admired nurses for being able to take on a parent-like role in a moment of need. I hope to do the same while caring for my patients in the future. I have gained 87 clinical hours by helping out in a nearby Pharmacy and Doctor's Office for 1 day per week and 3 hours per day. I understand the worry of staff being rude to you and having to break out of your shell when it comes to talking to strangers. I hope that becoming a nurse will allow me to provide comfort to some of these students and give them advice about the field. There are diverse shift scheduling options, such as working 5 days per week and 8 hours per day or 3 days per week and 12 hours per day. The option to switch from a part-time to a full-time shift is also available. Nurses may also have the opportunity to be paid for picking up extra shifts outside of their weekly schedule, such as working during the holidays. Level 1 of the NICU focuses on premature and sick infants. Level 2 provides care to infants who are expected to become sicker with time, making progress, and those who have respiratory issues. Level 3 deals with infants who are born with critical illnesses, on life support, or need respiratory support. Level 4 NICU nurses can perform every duty that levels 1, 2, and 3 can, with the addition of being able to arrange transport.

“13 Reasons Why” by Jay Asher is the most eye opening and emotional teen drama book known to man. It features teenagers who suffer from having/experiencing mental health issues, victim blaming, abuse, peer pressure, addiction, isolation, suicidal thoughts, bullying, cat calling, survivors guilt, family issues, self harm, sexual assault, financial instability, fake friends, and rape. While a majority of people contradict younger generations' feelings by saying that they are too young to have suicidal thoughts or suffer mentally, the book snaps readers back into reality by showing that people can plaster smiles on their faces during their everyday lives for others to view them as what they wish to be or want others to see. Hannah Baker faces difficult turning points in her life that cause her to commit suicide and leave behind cassette tapes that describe the reasons why. The book allows readers to learn about possible triggers and their results in order to think twice before bullying or making negative comments about others. The book shows that an individual can be killed emotionally/mentally long before their body is deemed deceased. The blood may not physically lie on an individual's hand but fingers will be pointed. Children are taught to speak to a trusted adult if they are having negative thoughts or feel “odd”. Hannah warned her classmates, teacher, and principal about her suicidal thoughts and all they did was ignore her and make everything seem normal. While talking to adults for a sense of security may be what we are taught, this book is a clear display of this not always being a choice for everyone. Some people may not have a trusted person in their lives or someone that truly cares about them enough to prevent such a life changing outcome from occurring. Hannah’s story sends a message to readers that it's okay to ask for help but it may not always be the best choice or even a choice at all. After reading the novel, readers can watch the 4 season television series on Netflix. The book allows readers to focus on Hannah's narration of the characters and clay reflecting on his memories with Hannah, while the show introduces the characters that are discussed in the tapes and shows how Hannah's death is affecting them. By watching the show and reading the book the reader can detect various differences and similarities while forming their own opinions.

I didn’t learn how to pronounce any words that begin with “ch” or “sh” until the end of 5th grade. From 3rd to 5th grade, I was enrolled in speech and language courses that required me to be taken out of class and read for at least 15-20 minutes per day. I looked forward to going to the classroom each day because the teacher would let us fill up brown paper bags with toys, candy, and chips before walking back to class. The class itself was fun but I was always embarrassed when the teacher would call on me to read or answer questions because the other students would always laugh or try to correct my way of pronouncing words. Writing did something for me that I didn't think was possible. It allowed me to speak to my classmates and teachers without having to open my mouth. I filled up every composition notebook and piece of loose leaf paper that I could find by writing down the stories that I created in my head and the list of words that I couldn't pronounce over the years. I have written newspaper articles that I can look back on for the rest of my life. Being a student of my high school’s journalism club/course allows me to write an article every week for my school’s newspaper website. So far I have written articles about movies and Tv shows, handmade arts and crafts projects, scholarship websites, advice, the blood drive, school events, spirit week, and my peers. I will be able to look back on events from my senior year and see the things that I enjoyed doing during my senior year of high school. When I was 9 years old, I was hospitalized for 6 weeks due to my appendix rupturing and spreading poison throughout my body. I had a total of 3 surgeries to remove my appendix from my body, implement tubes and bags at each side of my abdomen to draw out and collect fluid, and remove the tubes and bags. During my stay, I met a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair and quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster truck. I begin going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming and I never saw him again. Writing has allowed me to share my near death experience and become more confident in showing off my scar. I now have a published story in the school newspaper that allowed me to openly discuss my former friend and the challenges that I faced during my hospital stay. Writing allows me to release my emotions without fear of judgement or pity from others. My tears may stain the page or the ink may smear, but my words will never disappear. The pen and paper are my saviour, the duo allows me to release any pent up anger or sadness that I have without having to worry about other people's feelings.

Whether the lights were off or the car needed an oil change, pills were always the main priority. Excuses, excuses, excuses, they were always told but the pills were still being consumed, I waited years but sobriety never came. Year after year, I would blow out the candles and wish for the pill bottles to be put down and the perfect father to return. Whether it was selling stamps, borrowing money, or pawning electronics, he would always find a way to obtain money for pills. In 2016, everything went downhill for my family as I remained in the dark. My father used all of his money to purchase the newest pain pills on the market, resulting in none of the bills being paid, our car breaking down, and getting kicked out of our house. We went from being a family of 5 in a 4 bedroom house to a family of 4 living in a room with 2 beds and a single closet, not to mention having to share the bathroom and kitchen with an older couple. My brother was lucky enough to live with his grandmother and grandfather, his life became going from work to home and repeating it everyday as the year went on; My sister on the other hand, attempted to deter me from the reality of our living situation, she would always take me to the park and buy me anything that I wanted. My mom became a shadow of her former self, her eyes darkened and her smile looked as if it had been sewn onto her face. I got through the next 2 years by telling myself that I will get through whatever obstacles threw themselves at me and replacing my sadness with happiness and my anger with hope. A key lesson that I learned during my childhood was to use what I had and never resent those who had more. From the age of 7, my dad always told me that “coins are still money”. If I collected coins from around the house I could cash it in and buy whatever my heart desired. I saved up more and more money and I was able to purchase my own school supplies and even some of my clothes and accessories. Before finding a house of our own, we couch hopped then went from Motel to Motel. Finally, we moved into a 5 bedroom house on January 17, 2017 that would result in my family being together again and everyone having their own rooms. I thought my father would focus more on supporting his family but he didn't, he wasn't paying rent and the landlord threatened to kick us out. My brother began paying for everything and has been ever since, from him I learned to always persevere through challenges by putting a smile on my face and never letting anything stop me from achieving my goals. I am now a senior in highschool who is hoping to give back to my community by becoming a provider and advocate for those in need. I understand that I didn't have the perfect family dynamic but I will never let that stop me from bettering the lives of others and ensuring that a bright future lies ahead. I will attend a 4 year college/university and graduate with my Bachelor’s of Science in Nursing degree in 2028 and become a NICU Nurse. I have never let my family’s struggles define me, but I will use my past experiences to better my future by becoming an advocate for those without voices and giving back to the less fortunate.

When I was 9 years old, I was hospitalized for 6 weeks due to my appendix rupturing and spreading poison throughout my body. I had a total of 3 surgeries to remove my appendix from my body, implement tubes and bags at each side of my abdomen to draw out and collect fluid, and remove the tubes and bags. During my stay, I met a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair and quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster truck. I begin going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming and I never saw him again. I asked the other kids and even the nurses but I never got an answer on if he was released or died from his sickness. My dream became to help others like him, whose wings had been clipped and whose shelter became the bird cage they were confined to. The scar on my stomach reminds me of him and the resulting sadness pushes me to go through with my dream of becoming a NICU Nurse to help infants who are critically hospitalized like we were. Becoming a NICU nurse will allow me to advocate for infants, they don’t have a voice so they are unable to tell anyone about the pain or struggles they are having. As a NICU nurse, I will be tasked with understanding the needs of each infant and meeting their needs, for example figuring out why a baby is crying(hunger, dehydration, diaper change etc). I had a lingual frenectomy and umbilicoplasty a while back. All that I remember is everyone in the operating room singing songs with me, talking to me about their children and pets, and asking questions before the anesthesia took over. The lingual frenectomy was my first surgery. I remember crying after I learned that my parents couldn’t come back with me, but Nurse Ashley held my hand as she wheeled me down to the operating room. I have always admired nurses for being able to take on a parent-like role in a moment of need. I hope to do the same while caring for my patients in the future. On 08/18/20 my Aunt Shirley was found lifeless in her hospital bed. During one of my last conversations with her, she said to become the provider that the world needs. Her wise words run through my mind almost every second of every day. They are used today as motivation to make sure that I enjoy every second of life and achieve my full potential. One of my favorite teachers, Mrs. Harms has become one of the kindest and most supportive role models due to her constant encouragement of me to excel in life. From day one, she has always shown her support for me in pursuing my desired career path, whether it be helping me research the required schooling or look into the colleges that I wish to attend. The phrase "no one is stopping you, but you" was told to me a while ago by Mrs.Harms and is used today as a constant reminder in my everyday life. I hope to make a difference and create an everlasting impact by selling my own handmade keychains, badge reels, t-shirts, and sweatshirts to any healthcare professionals who may desire them. By promoting on various social media platforms, I will inspire the younger generations to do whatever they put their minds to and to never give up on their dreams, no matter how hard the journey may be.

I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The fluid was as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The technician began circling the device around and her face dropped. She exited out of the curtain and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until my parents were escorted in front of the curtain and I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside of my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids, I took medicine every few hours, and had an emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain and the nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right side of my abdomen, at each side a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches once and for all. By this time, the machines stopped beeping and the wires were no longer attached to me, I had no more pain in my abdomen, and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. My hospital stay allowed me to meet a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. I quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster trucks and after that day we were inseparable. Throughout my stay I begin going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming and I never saw him again. I asked the other kids and even the nurses but I never got an answer on if he was released or died from his sickness. My dream became to help others like him, whose wings had been clipped and whose shelter became the bird cage they were confined to. The scar on my stomach reminds me of him and the resulting sadness pushes me to go through with my dream of becoming a NICU Nurse to help infants who are critically hospitalized like we were. After 8 years of hiding my story and scar, I found the courage to share my story with others by writing it and submitting it to be published in the school newspaper. Since my story has been published, I have received kind comments under my article stating things like, "thanks for sharing your experience and choosing to help others because of it".

I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The fluid was as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The technician began circling the device around and her face dropped. She exited out of the curtain and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until my parents were escorted in front of the curtain and I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside of my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids, I took medicine every few hours, and had an emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain and the nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right side of my abdomen, at each side a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches once and for all. By this time, the machines stopped beeping and the wires were no longer attached to me, I had no more pain in my abdomen, and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. My hospital stay allowed me to meet a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. I quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster trucks and after that day we were inseparable. Throughout my stay I begin going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming and I never saw him again. I asked the other kids and even the nurses but I never got an answer on if he was released or died from his sickness. My dream became to help others like him, whose wings had been clipped and whose shelter became the bird cage they were confined to. The scar on my stomach reminds me of him and the resulting sadness pushes me to go through with my dream of becoming a NICU Nurse to help infants who are critically hospitalized like we were. After 8 years of hiding my story and scar, I found the courage to share my story with others by writing it and submitting it to be published in the school newspaper. Since my story has been published, I have received kind comments under my article stating things like, "thanks for sharing your experience and choosing to help others because of it".

I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The fluid was as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The technician began circling the device around and her face dropped. She exited out of the curtain and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until my parents were escorted in front of the curtain and I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside of my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids, I took medicine every few hours, and had an emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain and the nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right side of my abdomen, at each side a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches once and for all. By this time, the machines stopped beeping and the wires were no longer attached to me, I had no more pain in my abdomen, and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. My hospital stay allowed me to meet a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. I quickly bonded with him by asking him to play with his monster trucks and after that day we were inseparable. Throughout my stay I begin going to the playroom once a day, twice a day, then not at all. He stopped coming and I never saw him again. I asked the other kids and even the nurses but I never got an answer on if he was released or died from his sickness. My dream became to help others like him, whose wings had been clipped and whose shelter became the bird cage they were confined to. The scar on my stomach reminds me of him and the resulting sadness pushes me to go through with my dream of becoming a NICU Nurse to help infants who are critically hospitalized like we were. After 8 years of hiding my story and scar, I found the courage to share my story with others by writing it and submitting it to be published in the school newspaper. Since my story has been published, I have received kind comments under my article stating things like, "thanks for sharing your experience and choosing to help others because of it".

After five or six rides, we were called over to sing happy birthday to my little cousin, who looked happier than ever to eat cake and celebrate with Chucky. I attempted to ignore the nauseous feeling in my stomach because I didn’t want to ruin anyone’s night or cause my grandma to leave early. The last ride seemed to make the pain unbearable, after leaving it I could barely walk. I had no choice but to hold my abdomen because it felt like I was being cut from the inside out. Day 1: I couldn't lay on my right side, it felt like an electric eel was sliding through my abdomen, causing the pain to electrify every second. Day 2: I couldn’t play with my friends nor spend time with my family. I began vomiting all over my house, yet another symptom of my “upset stomach.” Day 3: My parents informed me that they were taking me to Bethesda Hospital. My tears flowed like a waterfall, they stained my shirt and the blanket that my mother had wrapped around me. I entered a small space with a yellow curtain and received an abdominal ultrasound. The fluid was as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The technician began circling the device around and her face dropped. She exited out of the curtain and all that could be seen on the other side was nurses and doctors running back and forth like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until my parents were escorted in front of the curtain and I heard the words ``emergency surgery.`` By the end of week one, I was told that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. Tubes were inserted inside and outside of my esophagus in an attempt to eliminate contaminated fluids. I began consuming fluids through an IV since I couldn’t consume solids, I took medicine every few hours, and had an emergency appendectomy surgery. Around week two or three, I learned how to walk without wincing in pain. The nurses announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU) or pediatrics unit. Everything was great until the doctor suggested another surgery that would form incisions in the left and right side of my abdomen, at each side a pouch would be attached to a tube. The tubes would draw out fluid and the pouches would collect it. During week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery to remove the pouches. By this time, the machines stopped beeping and the wires were no longer attached to me. I had no more pain in my abdomen and I was cleared to eat solid foods. A core memory of mine is my dad leaving the hospital and coming back with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the hospital staff rejoicing at me stuffing my face with grease dripping down my chin. Week six finally came when I was wheeled out to my mom. I remember the tires screeching and the wind blowing in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, coleslaw, and shrimp to feed an entire village. The scar from the surgery remains on the right side of my lower abdomen. To some, it may seem like a constant reminder of the torment I experienced, but to me, it's motivation towards becoming a NICU nurse to help infants who are critically hospitalized like I was.

On 08/18/20 my aunt Shirley Wise was found lifeless in her hospital bed. During one of my last conversations with her, she said to become the provider that the world needs. Her wise words run through my mind almost every second of every day, they are used as motivation towards securing my High School diploma and my Bachelor of Science in Nursing(BSN) degree. One of my favorite teachers, Mrs. Harms has become one of the kindest and most supportive role models due to her constant encouragement of me to excel in life. From day one, she has always shown her support for me in pursuing my desired career path, whether it be helping me research the required schooling or scholarship websites. The phrase "no one is stopping you, but you" was told to me a while ago by Mrs.Harms and is used today as a constant reminder in my everyday life. The average Nurse works 12-hour shifts 3 days a week. This work schedule will allow me to spend more time with my family and friends, acquire new hobbies, and ensure that I obtain a healthy mental status. I know that being a Nurse can take a toll on one’s mental health, so a mental health day will become a weekly priority. This is a day filled with exciting activities that result in me feeling happy and secure: Pedicures, eating my favorite meals and snacks, obtaining a sufficient amount of sleep, cleaning, creating a bucket list, and spending time with my family and friends. While many people think that Nurses only work in Hospitals, they can work in a variety of different places such as Military bases and campsites. There are endless environments to choose from and even more opportunities available to interact with new people. I can work in different facilities or even become a Travel Nurse and work in different areas across the world. A career in Nursing will result in financial stability, according to Ziprecruiter.com, the annual NICU Nurse salary in Florida is $100,529. Being financially stable will result in me being less stressed out, obtaining greater focus on other aspects of my life, living debt-free, and being able to experience financial freedom. Every time the topic of the Healthcare system arises, my family members tend to discuss their opinions about Hospitals “not caring about their patients” and “doing anything possible to gain more money”. I hope that becoming a part of a field that they deem as "dangerous" and "greedy" will show my family that Healthcare workers don't have malicious intentions, instead, they are doing everything in their power to protect their patients and lead them to recovery. There is a wide variety of Nursing specialties, such as ER and Oncology. After becoming a Registered Nurse(RN), you can choose a specialty that you enjoy, whether it revolves around infants, children, elderly, or elderly patients. There are always new opportunities to switch specialties and adapt to new environments to meet personal needs. Every patient is likely to have different needs that need to be met, meaning that I will likely have a variety of responsibilities to fulfill during every shift. NICU Nurse's responsibilities are assisting with breastfeeding, administering medications, bottle feeding infants, attending deliveries, monitoring the progress of infants, providing basic care, and tracking the growth of patients. Perhaps one day I'll be monitoring the process of baby A and the next day I will be administering medications to baby B.

I dream of becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Nurse. It may sound absurd but I developed this passion at an early age due to watching “Doc McStuffins” as a child. Doc McStuffins is a 6-year-old girl with a wild imagination, she has a playhouse clinic where she fixes any problems the toys have, whether this may be a missing battery or lack of stuffing. Her ability to heal her “patients” pushed me to develop a want to become a healthcare professional just like her. In 2016, I was hospitalized in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit after my appendix burst and spread poison throughout my body. My hospital stay consisted of 6 excruciating weeks. I gave up on myself and thought that I would never see the outside of that hospital ever again. One day, my dad and grandma stayed overnight with me. I portrayed to them that I wanted to die so that I would no longer be in pain. Oddly, their tears didn't make me sad, they gave me hope. After this day I smiled through every procedure and challenge that arose. It's been eight years since I was released from the hospital and the scar remains on my abdomen. It may seem like a reminder of the pain and suffering I went through, but to me, it's a daily dose of motivation towards helping infants who are critically hospitalized like I was. On 08/18/20 my aunt Shirley Wise was found lifeless in her hospital bed. Her death has become one of the main reasons that I will go through with my dreams of becoming a healthcare professional. I always told my aunt that I wanted to be a nurse, during one of my last conversations with her she said to become the provider that the world needs, and ever since her words have stuck with me. Her wise words have pushed me to work harder towards securing my High School diploma and my Bachelor's Degree of Science in Nursing(BSN). I know that if she could look at me today she would be very happy to see me working day by day to achieve my career aspirations. My Aice English Language teacher Mrs. Harms has become one of the kindest and most supportive role models due to her constant encouragement of me to excel in life. From day one, she has always supported my dream of becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Nurse. Whether it be helping me research the required schooling or scholarship websites. The phrase "no one is stopping you, but you" was told to me a while ago by Mrs.Harms and is used today as a constant reminder in my everyday life. After completing my College years, I will graduate from Palm Beach State College in 2028 and obtain my BSN(Bachelor of Science in Nursing)degree. Within months of graduating college and earning my degree, I will apply for the NCLEX(National Council Licensure Examination) exam. After passing this exam, I will become certified as a licensed Registered Nurse(RN) and apply to hospitals nearby to gain a spot on a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit(NICU)floor. I am excited about caring for infants and using my career to educate others by posting social media content to educate people about the importance of healthcare professionals and their impact on our everyday lives.

My name is De'juh Hickman and I am a passionate and devoted senior at Santaluces Community High School. I am in my 4th year of being in the Medical Sciences Academy and I enjoy obtaining community service hours by donating my medical scrubs to the less fortunate and washing cars with the JROTC on-campus academy to save up for the Military ball. Aice classes are truly a joy for me. I have taken 8 within the last 4 years: Aice International History, Aice English Language, Aice Literature(A level), Aice Literature(AS level), Aice U.S. History, Aice Environmental Management, Aice General Paper, and Aice Travel and Tourism. After High School, I want to become a neonatal intensive care unit nurse and create my own healthcare apparel business. If I’m not flipping through the pages of the newest book on the market, you can find me creating decorations/fashion items or writing. I dream of becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Nurse. It may sound absurd but I developed this passion at an early age due to watching “Doc McStuffins” as a child. Doc McStuffins is a 6-year-old girl with a wild imagination, she has a playhouse clinic where she fixes any problems the toys have, whether this may be a missing battery or lack of stuffing. Her ability to heal her “patients” pushed me to develop a want to become a healthcare professional just like her. I will nurture every patient and ensure that they become the healthiest and happiest babies possible. My High School’s medical program, the Medical Sciences Academy only pushed me more towards becoming a healthcare professional, by allowing me to experience Doctor’s office and pharmacy settings to gain clinical hours. I plan to create and promote my healthcare apparel business. My business will ship worldwide and it will sell handmade keychains, badge reels, t-shirts, and sweatshirts to any healthcare professionals who may desire them. By promoting on various social media platforms, I will inspire the younger generations to achieve their goals and obtain hard work and determination no matter how hard the obstacles may be. My greatest accomplishments are that I am certified as a Medical Administrative assistant, I'm certified in performing adult and infant CPR, I have over 85 hours of clinical hours at the Walgreens Pharmacy and a Doctor's office in Boynton Beach, I have over 100 hours of community service, I started my own cosmetic and body care business when I was 14 years old, and I am a High School Senior who is on track for graduation with a 3.4 cumulative GPA and 56/655 class rank. I am also maintaining straight A's in all of my classes and I'm currently looking into being hired as a Pharmacy Technician at a Walgreens or CVS near me.

I dream of becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Nurse. It may sound absurd but I developed this passion at an early age due to watching “Doc McStuffins” as a child. Doc McStuffins is a 6-year-old girl with a wild imagination, she has a playhouse clinic where she fixes any problems the toys have, whether this may be a missing battery or lack of stuffing. Her ability to heal her “patients” pushed me to develop a want to become a healthcare professional just like her. I will nurture every patient and ensure that they become the healthiest and happiest babies possible. My High School’s medical program, the Medical Sciences Academy only pushed me more towards becoming a healthcare professional, by allowing me to experience Doctor’s office and pharmacy settings to gain clinical hours. In 2016, I was hospitalized in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit after my appendix burst and spread poison throughout my body. My hospital stay consisted of 6 excruciating weeks. I gave up on myself and thought that I would never see the outside of that hospital ever again. One day, my dad and grandma stayed overnight with me. I portrayed to them that I wanted to die so that I would no longer be in pain. Oddly, their tears didn't make me sad, they gave me hope. After this day I smiled through every procedure and challenge that arose. It's been eight years since I was released from the hospital and the scar remains on my abdomen. It may seem like a reminder of the pain and suffering I went through, but to me, it's a daily dose of motivation towards helping infants who are critically hospitalized like I was. On 08/18/20 my aunt Shirley Wise was found lifeless in her hospital bed. Her death has become one of the main reasons that I will go through with my dreams of becoming a healthcare professional. I always told my aunt that I wanted to be a nurse, during one of my last conversations with her she said to become the provider that the world needs, and ever since her words have stuck with me. Her wise words have pushed me to work harder towards securing my High School diploma and my Bachelor's Degree in Nursing(BSN). I know that if she could look at me today she would be very happy to see me working day by day to achieve my career aspirations. My Aice English Language teacher Mrs. Harms has become one of the kindest and most supportive role models due to her constant encouragement of me to excel in life. From day one, she has always supported my dream of becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Nurse. Whether it be helping me research the required schooling or scholarship websites. The phrase "no one is stopping you, but you" was told to me a while ago by Mrs.Harms and is used today as a constant reminder in my everyday life. I plan to create and promote my healthcare apparel business. My business will ship worldwide and it will sell handmade keychains, badge reels, t-shirts, and sweatshirts to any healthcare professionals who may desire them. By promoting on various social media platforms, I will inspire the younger generations to achieve their goals and obtain hard work and determination no matter how hard the obstacles may be. I will use my career to educate others by posting content on social media to educate people about the importance of healthcare professionals and their impact. The videos will revolve around how to become a Nicu nurse and my daily routine.

I dream of becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Nurse. It may sound absurd but I developed this passion at an early age due to watching “Doc McStuffins” as a child. Doc McStuffins is a 6-year-old girl with a wild imagination, she has a playhouse clinic where she fixes any problems the toys have, whether this may be a missing battery or lack of stuffing. Her ability to heal her “patients” pushed me to develop a want to become a healthcare professional just like her. I will nurture every patient and ensure that they become the healthiest and happiest babies possible. My High School’s medical program, the Medical Sciences Academy only pushed me more towards becoming a healthcare professional, by allowing me to experience Doctor’s office and pharmacy settings to gain clinical hours. In 2016, I was hospitalized in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit after my appendix burst and spread poison throughout my body. My hospital stay consisted of 6 excruciating weeks. I gave up on myself and thought that I would never see the outside of that hospital ever again. One day, my dad and grandma stayed overnight with me. I portrayed to them that I wanted to die so that I would no longer be in pain. Oddly, their tears didn't make me sad, they gave me hope. After this day I smiled through every procedure and challenge that arose. It's been eight years since I was released from the hospital and the scar remains on my abdomen. It may seem like a reminder of the pain and suffering I went through, but to me, it's a daily dose of motivation towards helping infants who are critically hospitalized like I was. On 08/18/20 my aunt Shirley Wise was found lifeless in her hospital bed. Her death has become one of the main reasons that I will go through with my dreams of becoming a healthcare professional. I always told my aunt that I wanted to be a nurse, during one of my last conversations with her she said to become the provider that the world needs, and ever since her words have stuck with me. Her wise words have pushed me to work harder towards securing my High School diploma and my Bachelor's Degree in Nursing(BSN). I know that if she could look at me today she would be very happy to see me working day by day to achieve my career aspirations. My sophomore year Aice English Language teacher Mrs. Harms has become one of the kindest and most supportive role models due to her constant encouragement of me to excel in life. From day one, she has always supported my dream of becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Nurse. Whether it be helping me research the required schooling or scholarship websites. The phrase "no one is stopping you, but you" was told to me a while ago by Mrs.Harms and is used today as a constant reminder in my everyday life. I plan to use my career to create and promote my healthcare apparel business. My business will ship worldwide and it will sell handmade keychains, badge reels, t-shirts, and sweatshirts to any healthcare professionals who may desire them. By promoting on various social media platforms, I will inspire the younger generations to achieve their goals and obtain hard work and determination no matter how hard the obstacles may be. I will bring excitement to healthcare workers worldwide who feel that their work apparel will bring excitement to their patients/themselves.

Throughout my High School years, I have blasted Lana Del Ray, Melanie Martinez, Olivia Rodrigo, Toosi, Rod Wave, Adele, Billie Eilish, Conan Gray, Dove Cameron, Sabrina Carpenter, Harry Styles, and Tate Mcrae on repeat. Music has helped me form a sense of normality by allowing me and other teenage girls to relate to it and understand it while also enjoying its aesthetic. An example of this is a lyric from Olivia Rodrigo’s newest Guts album “You fix the things you hated and you’d still feel so insecure and I try to ignore it, but it’s everything I see. It’s on the poster on the wall, it’s in the shitty magazines, It’s in my phone, it’s in my head”. I can relate to this lyric, like many other teenage girls, I am present on TikTok and Instagram. I can see other women who have more developed bodies and prettier faces and even the magazines that Olivia describes with unrealistic bodies and facial features. From when I first began being active on social media to now, I’ve always followed a variety of Instagram models who have what society paints as the “perfect body”. If you don’t have the runway model build( 5 '9 and above, small bust, small hips, and small waist) or an hourglass figure( equal shoulder/bust proportion and a small waist) your body will likely be ridiculed from every angle and you’ll be criticized for not eating enough/eating too much. Whether it be my weight, smile, or bust, I've been insecure about everything on my body at one point or another. I've tried to fix my insecurities by gaining weight, hiding my smile, covering up my body with clothing, changing my sense of style, and sucking in my stomach, no matter what I do my insecurities will always manage to trap me in a web of uncertainty and envy. I started listening to music when completing my homework assignments and I have never stopped. I have a short attention span, but music seems to help me focus more on completing my assignments on paper or my Chromebook. I just put my AirPods into my ears and they seem to take me to another world far beyond this Earth, music makes me feel as if I'm floating high in the clouds while still being in the comfort of my own home. The lyrics oddly help me focus more, I used to attempt to watch movies every night instead of listening to music but it seemed to distract me. When I listen to happy and upbeat music or classical music, I easily become motivated to complete whatever is assigned to me and even more. Music allows me to push the limits of what I can do, it allows me to tune out my surroundings and focus on my present tasks and not the future. Throughout my Junior and Senior years of High School, I have been blasting music every Saturday while I deep clean my room. I have a Smart TV so I can play my playlist on my television and look on and off at the music videos while I sweep, dust, and mop my bedroom and closet. The addition of music makes cleaning fun, it makes it feel less like something I have to do and more like something I want to do.

I have demonstrated leadership by participating in community service hour opportunities, helping those around me when they needed it, and accomplishing my goals despite any challenges/doubts. Oktoberfest is a German food and beer festival that combines German culture with American culture. A variety of carnival rides, meals, beer, pop-up shops, concessions stands, entertainment, and merchandise are offered. I volunteered at the festival on October 14, 2023, from 2-6 p.m. I was assigned to the German Country Club to serve red cabbage, goulash, mashed potatoes, pork shanks, Jägerschnitzel, sauerbraten, Brötchen, and noodles. By volunteering, I helped the JROTC on-campus academy by being one of their present volunteers and lessened the stress put on the kitchen staff to meet the needs of the customers. During my sophomore and junior years of High School, I donated my scrubs to the less fortunate and gained 30 community service hours. My main focus was helping my peers who couldn't afford to purchase scrubs. Each year I purchased 2 pairs of scrubs, one for me to wear throughout the year and the other for me to donate during the last month of school. In 2022, I participated in the Jrotc Academy car wash. I washed and dried cars and held up signs in front of the School to promote the car wash. The driver of each car paid $5, which helped to save up for the Military ball(an annual formal event that JROTC Academy students and their plus-one attend to enjoy dancing, eating German meals, and interacting with each other). In December of 2021, I became certified in performing adult and infant CPR. During my sophomore year of High School, I was enrolled in an Emergency Medical Responder class which focused on the roles, responsibilities, and daily life of healthcare professionals. Passing scores on the physical exam(performing CPR on adult and infant mannequins) and paper exam were necessary to earn your CPR card. Many of my classmates struggled when it came to passing the physical aspect of their certification exam. I practiced with them every day during class, and our hard work paid off. Each of the students I practiced with passed their exams and earned their cards. In return for my help, my teacher gave me community service hours. My sister started a business earlier this year, she sells cakes, cupcakes, and dinner plates to anyone in the Lake Worth, Delray, or Boynton Beach areas. When she first started, she was only getting orders from friends and family. I disliked my sister struggling with something she was so passionate about, so I promoted her dinner plates and desserts on my Instagram story and highlights in hopes of my sister's business becoming more successful. In August of 2018, I was riding home with my parents when I saw 5 baby turtles who had been hit while attempting to cross the road. I ran over, hoping to find at least one turtle to save, and there I found Cleo. It is now 5 years later and Cleo is a healthy and happy turtle who is as sweet as can be. After bringing Cleo home I discovered my love for turtles and ended up purchasing 2 more, whom I named Chloe and Crush. In the future, I hope to use my leadership skills to excel as a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Nurse(NICU). I will try my best to establish a healthy environment for my coworkers and form a powerful team for the patient's sake. I believe that everyone befriending each other and working together as a team will benefit the staff, patients, and visitors of the hospital.

I dream of becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Nurse. It may sound absurd but I developed this passion at an early age due to watching “Doc McStuffins” as a child. Doc McStuffins is a 6-year-old girl with a wild imagination, she has a playhouse clinic where she fixes any problems the toys have, whether this may be a missing battery or lack of stuffing. Her ability to heal her “patients” pushed me to develop a want to become a healthcare professional just like her. I will nurture every patient and ensure that they become the healthiest and happiest babies possible. My High School’s medical program, the Medical Sciences Academy only pushed me more towards becoming a healthcare professional, by allowing me to experience Doctor’s office and pharmacy settings to gain clinical hours. I plan to create my own healthcare apparel business. My business will ship worldwide and it will sell handmade keychains, badge reels, t-shirts, and sweatshirts to any healthcare professionals who may desire them. There will be accessories and apparel for a variety of healthcare professionals, and I will take personalized orders from customers. By promoting on various social media platforms, I will inspire the younger generations to achieve their goals and obtain hard work and determination no matter how hard the obstacles may be. I will bring excitement to healthcare workers worldwide who feel that their work apparel will bring excitement to their patients/themselves. Earning this Scholarship will aid in paying a portion of my college tuition. I wish to attend Palm Beach State College, whose tuition is around $6-8,000 per year. For me to attend college full time I will need help financially, if the money doesn’t go towards tuition I will be sure to use it on books or any required school supplies. I understand that my parents may struggle financially at some point when it comes to generating money for my college funds, which is why I wish to help them by winning this scholarship and many more. Winning this scholarship will result in a portion of my tuition for my first year of college being paid off. With this help, I will complete my Freshman year of college and first year of being in my desired school's pre-nursing program. After completing my Freshman, Sophomore, Junior, and Senior years of college I will graduate from Palm Beach State College in 2028 and obtain my BSN(Bachelor of Science in Nursing)degree. Within months of graduating college and earning my degree, I will apply for the NCLEX(National Council Licensure Examination) exam. After passing this exam, I will become certified as a licensed Registered Nurse(RN) and apply to hospitals nearby to gain a spot on a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit(NICU)floor. I will be able to gain 1.5-2 years of experience as a NICU Nurse on a hospital floor to become a NICU Travel nurse and travel around the world to help infants worldwide. I will use my career to educate others by posting diverse content on social media to educate people about the importance of healthcare professionals and their impact on our everyday lives. I will post videos on how to become a Nicu nurse and what a day in the life of a Nicu nurse looks like. These videos will be used to paint a positive image of healthcare as a whole and inspire people to become neonatal nurses.

I would watch “Romeo + Juliet” for all of eternity if possible. It’s a romantic tragedy movie that retells the story of William Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet” play. The Montagues and the Capulets have never gotten along, they have been feuding for as long as time. The hatred is being passed down to their children who are taught to never trust someone from the opposing family. Benvolio and Romeo crash the Capulet’s party, he sees Juliet when he goes to the restroom, and her captivating eyes and alluring essence immediately lure him in. The love between a Capulet and a Montague brings death, suicide, and sadness to Fair, Verona. The movie’s display of love and its effect on the human mind is immensely intriguing. The relationship between Romeo and Juliet shows that the love in one’s heart will outweigh all hate, they were taught to despise each other from an early age, and even after finding out the true identities of each other, they continue to let their love prosper. The power of love is shown in the play due to Romeo and Juliet’s willingness to run away and even die if it meant that they could openly express their affection in the afterlife. Luhrman adapts the movie for it to include a blend of modern-day and old-fashioned periods. Rather than two ordinary wealthy suburban families, the Montagues and the Capulets are competing rival gangs who use guns rather than swords. The use of a modern weapon generates suspense and excitement, the watcher can see threats, violent shootings, and death arise in both families due to hatred and the realization of Romeo and Juliet’s unconditional love. At the beginning of the film, a news reporter is broadcasting about the deaths of Romeo and Juliet on television. I love that Luhrman used this as a way of foreshadowing the movie’s ending and beginning the movie with how news is still being received today. The introduction of early modern English, fashion, ideas on marriage, and party costumes display the contemporary style of the decade and how the people of this decade differed in how they lived their everyday lives. I love that the movie is a blend of old-fashioned and modern-day times allowing people of different generations to relate to it and observe how older generations lived their day-to-day lives. The film toys with the timeless problems of human beings of any decade: forbidden love, toxic parents, mental health, suicide, rebellious teen years, and feeling that one has failed as a parent. Regardless of the generation or age of a person, a majority of people will relate to suffering with something that revolves around one of these topics. “Romeo + Juliet” includes timeless themes and topics that people of all ages and social classes can relate to/learn from. The movie itself doesn’t revolve around the stereotypical ideal old-fashioned family, it shows that almost every family has flaws that have the potential to advance and make the entire family dynamic crumble. Overall, it’s an astonishing and thrilling film that I will continue to rewatch, I would even be willing to make it the only film that I watch for the rest of my life. I love that the film takes William Shakespeare’s play and throws a bit of modern language and concepts into it to form a timeless, riveting, and complex display of love and intimacy.

To me, a successful life means that I am happy, healthy and successful. It means that I have my dream car, house, and career. I am stable financially, healthy physically, and happy mentally. Nothing can bring me down or stand in the way of reaching my goals, and my day-to-day life brings me immense happiness and satisfaction. I have no complaints about my life and can do as I please. I dream of becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Nurse. It may sound absurd but I developed this passion at an early age due to watching “Doc McStuffins” as a child. Doc McStuffins is a 6-year-old girl with a wild imagination, she has a playhouse clinic where she fixes any problems the toys have, whether this may be a missing battery or lack of stuffing. Her ability to heal her “patients” pushed me to develop a want to become a healthcare professional just like her. I will nurture every patient and ensure that they become the healthiest and happiest babies possible. My High School’s medical program, the Medical Sciences Academy only pushed me more towards becoming a healthcare professional, by allowing me to experience Doctor’s office and pharmacy settings to gain clinical hours. Earning this Scholarship will aid in paying a portion of my college tuition. I wish to attend Palm Beach State College, whose tuition is around $6-8,000 per year. For me to attend college full time I will need help financially, if the money doesn’t go towards tuition I will be sure to use it on books or any required school supplies. I understand that my parents may struggle financially at some point when it comes to generating money for my college funds, which is why I wish to help them by winning this scholarship and many more. Winning this scholarship will result in my full tuition for my first year of college being paid off. With this help, I will complete my Freshman year of college and first year of being in my desired school's pre-nursing program. After completing my Freshman, Sophomore, Junior, and Senior years of college I will graduate from Palm Beach State College in 2028 and obtain my BSN(Bachelor of Science in Nursing)degree. Within months of graduating college and earning my degree, I will apply for the NCLEX(National Council Licensure Examination) exam. After passing this exam, I will become certified as a licensed Registered Nurse(RN) and apply to hospitals nearby to gain a spot on a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit(NICU)floor. I will be able to gain 1.5-2 years of experience as a NICU Nurse on a hospital floor to become a NICU Travel nurse and travel around the world to help infants worldwide. I will use my career to educate others by posting diverse content on social media to educate people about the importance of healthcare professionals and their impact on our everyday lives. I will post videos on how to become a Nicu nurse and what a day in the life of a Nicu nurse looks like. These videos will be used to paint a positive image of healthcare as a whole and inspire people to become neonatal nurses. I plan to create my own healthcare apparel business. My business will ship worldwide and it will sell handmade keychains, badge reels, t-shirts, and sweatshirts to any healthcare professionals who may desire them. There will be accessories and apparel for a variety of healthcare professionals, and I will take personalized orders from customers. By promoting on various social media platforms, I will inspire the younger generations to achieve their goals and obtain hard work and determination no matter how hard the obstacles may be. I will bring excitement to healthcare workers worldwide who feel that their work apparel will bring excitement to their patients/themselves.

I am a passionate and devoted senior at Santaluces Community High School. I am in my 4th and final year of being in the Medical Sciences Academy and I enjoy obtaining community service hours by donating my medical scrubs to the less fortunate and washing cars with the JROTC on-campus academy. I have taken 8 Aice classes within the last 4 years: Aice International History, Aice English Language, Aice Literature(A level), Aice Literature(AS level), Aice U.S. History, Aice Environmental Management, Aice General Paper, and Aice Travel and Tourism. I dream of becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Nurse. It may sound absurd but I developed this passion at an early age due to watching “Doc McStuffins” as a child. Doc McStuffins is a 6-year-old girl with a wild imagination, she has a playhouse clinic where she fixes any problems the toys have, whether this may be a missing battery or lack of stuffing. Her ability to heal her “patients” pushed me to develop a want to become a healthcare professional just like her. I will nurture every patient and ensure that they become the healthiest and happiest babies possible. My High School’s medical program, the Medical Sciences Academy only pushed me more towards becoming a healthcare professional, by allowing me to experience Doctor’s office and pharmacy settings to gain clinical hours. I wish to start my own healthcare apparel business to generate income. My business will ship worldwide and sell handmade keychains, badge reels, t-shirts, and sweatshirts to healthcare professionals who desire them. By promoting on social media platforms, I will inspire younger generations to achieve their goals and obtain hard work and determination no matter how hard the obstacles seem. Earning this Scholarship will aid in paying a portion of my college tuition. I wish to attend Palm Beach State College, whose tuition is around $6-8,000 per year. For me to attend college full time I will need help financially, if the money doesn’t go towards tuition I will be sure to use it on books or any required school supplies. I understand that my parents may struggle financially at some point when it comes to generating money for my college funds, which is why I wish to help them by winning this scholarship and many more. The School's medical program will help me earn the education and certifications that I need to become prepared for taking my NCLEX (National Council Licensure Examination). Upon obtaining a passing score on this exam I will become a licensed Registered Nurse, meaning that I will be able to apply to my desired hospitals as a new grad Nurse.

My cousins and I began running around and getting on rides. After around five or six, we were called over to sing happy birthday to my little cousin, who looked happier than ever to eat cake and celebrate with Chucky. While in immense pain, I constantly put a big smile on my face and got on rides. The last ride swung up and down making the pain unbearable and me immobile. I told everyone that I wasn’t feeling well and began holding my abdomen because it felt like I was being cut from the inside out. When we arrived at the hospital, I was taken into a room to receive an ultrasound. I remember the fluid being as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The device circled my abdomen shortly before it was put away and the fluid was wiped off. After the tech exited out of the curtain I could see nurses running on the other side like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until I heard the words “emergency surgery.” Before I knew it, I was rushed into surgery to receive an appendectomy. A mask was put on my face and anesthesia began to consume me. I woke up in a room with a window, couch, television, bathroom, hallway, and exit door. All I could hear were recurring beeping noises that were coming from the various machines with wires flowing through me and the droplets of fluid being caught by a singular plastic pouch. By the end of week one, the doctor stated that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. During this week, tubes were inserted inside and outside of my esophagus in an attempt to remove fluids and I began consuming fluids and medicine through an IV. Around week two or three, the Doctor announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were also staying in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit(PICU) or pediatrics unit. I rushed over to the playroom and met a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. We quickly became friends and played with toys for hours on end. Everything was great until the doctor stated that the tube method wasn't collecting a sufficient amount of fluid. He suggested another surgery that would form incisions in my abdomen to attach tubes to pouches. The tubes would act as a pathway and the pouches as a bag. I was later cleared to go to the playroom, but I never saw my friend again. Around week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery that would remove the pouches. The same night that I was cleared by the doctors to consume solids, my dad showed up with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the staff rejoicing at grease dripping down my chin. During week six, my parents signed me out and wheeled me out to the car. The tires screeched and the wind blew in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, and shrimp to feed an entire village. It's been eight years since I was released from the hospital and the scar remains on the right side of my abdomen. To some, it may seem like a reminder of the pain and suffering I went through, but to me, it's a daily dose of motivation towards becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Nurse to help infants who are critically hospitalized like I was.

I am a passionate and devoted senior at Santaluces Community High School. I am in my 4th and final year of being in the Medical Sciences Academy and I enjoy obtaining community service hours by donating my medical scrubs to the less fortunate and washing cars with the JROTC on-campus academy. I have taken 8 Aice classes within the last 4 years: Aice International History, Aice English Language, Aice Literature(A level), Aice Literature(AS level), Aice U.S. History, Aice Environmental Management, Aice General Paper, and Aice Travel and Tourism. I dream of becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Nurse. It may sound absurd but I developed this passion at an early age due to watching “Doc McStuffins” as a child. Doc McStuffins is a 6-year-old girl with a wild imagination, she has a playhouse clinic where she fixes any problems the toys have, whether this may be a missing battery or lack of stuffing. Her ability to heal her “patients” pushed me to develop a want to become a healthcare professional just like her. I will nurture every patient and ensure that they become the healthiest and happiest babies possible. My High School’s medical program, the Medical Sciences Academy only pushed me more towards becoming a healthcare professional, by allowing me to experience Doctor’s office and pharmacy settings to gain clinical hours. I wish to start my own healthcare apparel business to generate income. My business will ship worldwide and sell handmade keychains, badge reels, t-shirts, and sweatshirts to healthcare professionals who desire them. By promoting on social media platforms, I will inspire younger generations to achieve their goals and obtain hard work and determination no matter how hard the obstacles seem. Earning this Scholarship will aid in paying a portion of my college tuition. I wish to attend Palm Beach State College, whose tuition is around $6-8,000 per year. For me to attend college full time I will need help financially, if the money doesn’t go towards tuition I will be sure to use it on books or any required school supplies. I understand that my parents may struggle financially at some point when it comes to generating money for my college funds, which is why I wish to help them by winning this scholarship and many more. The School's medical program will help me earn the education and certifications that I need to become prepared for taking my NCLEX (National Council Licensure Examination). Upon obtaining a passing score on this exam I will become a licensed Registered Nurse, meaning that I will be able to apply to my desired hospitals as a new grad Nurse. In 2016, I was hospitalized in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit after my appendix burst and spread poison throughout my body. My hospital stay consisted of 6 excruciating weeks. I gave up on myself and thought that I would never see the outside of that hospital ever again. One day, my dad and grandma stayed overnight with me. I portrayed to them that I wanted to die so that I would no longer be in pain. Oddly, their tears didn't make me sad, they gave me hope. After this day I smiled through every procedure and challenge that arose. It's been eight years since I was released from the hospital and the scar remains on my abdomen. It may seem like a reminder of the pain and suffering I went through, but to me, it's a daily dose of motivation towards helping infants who are critically hospitalized like I was.

I love upcycling by using trash or anything else that I can find lying around my house. Upcycling is the process of reusing materials by turning what others may deem as useless/unwanted into a product of a greater quality. The average person sees things like soda cans and egg cartons as trash, they throw them away or litter, and they end up in nearby landfills or being consumed by marine life. I have done many upcycling projects such as turning soda cans into coasters and Pringle Chip cans into flower vases. Some benefits of upcycling are saving money, reducing the amount of waste being packed into landfills, reducing air pollution and greenhouse gas emissions, allowing people to showcase their creative side, and allowing people to engage in this environmentally friendly activity with anyone they wish. Upcycling is an activity for people of all ages, children as little as 3 or 4 years old can participate in this activity with the supervision of their parent/guardian. Upcycling makes the world a better place by ensuring that humans are happy and expressing their creative mindsets, the atmosphere isn’t being polluted by things like greenhouse gas emissions, and animals aren’t consuming the trash that is being left in their ecosystems by humans. A day filled with 48 hours instead of 24 would likely help me to become more active in trying new hobbies, foods, and activities. I would spend time with my family and friends while watching some of the new movies that are hitting movie theaters near me. I would likely spend more time out of my day on making sure that I’m okay mentally, by engaging in things like meditation and spa retreats. I would love to learn new hobbies each day to show off to my friends and family before teaching them, specifically crocheting which has been put on the back burner at the moment. Although I’m a picky eater, I would love to spend some of my time traveling to stores near me with different foods from different countries and consuming them. My best friend excels in drawing, painting, creating clay art, and practicing hairstyles on herself and her family/friends. It’s safe to say that she is the most creative and intriguing person in my life. I feel most creative when I am in her presence. I remember during the summer of 2022, she would come over to my house and we would do activity after activity until we perfected it. She always motivates me to keep going until the outcome is of my liking and I feel that there is nothing more to do. When 2 artists with differing niches come together, beautiful work is bound to be the outcome.

Shirley Wise was a strong, resilient, and caring woman until she was found lifeless in her hospital bed on 08/18/2020. Her funeral was hosted days later, and the funeral home ensured that there was a limited number of people who wore masks until my Aunt was buried in the ground, the casket was closed but I'm sure that she looked as beautiful as ever. My earliest memory of my Aunt is from when she was a School bus driver, every afternoon after making her last stop she would slow down to throw candy into my hands. I would run and grab the candy as if it were my last meal, every day was the same routine. Both of my aunts bought houses in Delray Beach less than 5 feet away from each other. They spent their days with each other by walking back and forth from one house to the other, sadly this led to COVID-19 spreading at a rapid pace. On the Fourth of July, we celebrated our tradition of coming to my aunt's house to eat, dance, and spend time with each other. A visitor at my Aunt's house was undiagnosed at the time and passed it to my Aunt Shirley who then passed it on to my Aunt Verna. Whether it was my birthday or Christmas, my Aunt Shirley bought me gifts. The last dresses she bought were for Easter day, and although the dresses no longer fit they remain hung up in my closet to this day. I still have the perfume she got me for Christmas and it remains in a display case unopened. It is now 3 years later and my family has stopped participating in the "Birthday Club", which consisted of writing down everyone's birthday and surprising them with gifts. We can no longer celebrate at her house since it was sold after her death, every holiday is now spent in the house or posting about how much she is missed. I forget that my Aunt isn’t here, but the lack of a birthday post on Facebook or a new dress always snaps me back into reality. The gifts and the money were nice, but her constant support and displays of unconditional love are what I cherish. My aunt's death has become one of the main reasons that I will go through with my dreams of becoming a healthcare professional. From a very young age, I would tell my aunt that I wanted to be a nurse, during one of my last conversations with her she said to become the provider that the world needs, and ever since her words have stuck with me. Her death ignited a fear in me like no other. I distanced myself from my friends from August 2020 until July 2021 and wore a mask until the end of my Sophomore year. I caught COVID-19 in January of 2021 and feared that I would face a similar fate. My aunt died 13 days before the start of my Freshman year. I was enrolled in online schooling due to the pandemic but I know that she would have loved watching me experience the joys that High School brought me. She always talked about being the loudest person screaming when I walked across the stage at graduation, but only 6 more months remain and she isn't here to see it. Her not being present has pushed me to do whatever it takes until that diploma is mine, I always tell myself that she will be screaming from above when I walk across the stage.

I envision myself becoming a level 4 neonatal intensive care unit nurse. It may sound absurd but I developed this passion at an early age due to watching “Doc McStuffins” as a child. Doc McStuffins is a 6-year-old girl with a wild imagination, she has a playhouse clinic where She fixes any problem the toys may have, whether this may be a missing battery or lack of stuffing. Her ability to heal her “patients” pushed me to develop my own goal of becoming a healthcare professional just like her. As a nurse, I will nurture every patient and ensure that they become the healthiest and happiest babies possible. On 08/18/20 my aunt Shirley Wise was found lifeless in her hospital bed. Her death has become one of the main reasons that I will go through with my dreams of becoming a healthcare professional. I always told my aunt that I wanted to be a nurse, during one of my last conversations with her she said to become the provider that the world needs, and ever since her words have stuck with me. Her wise words have pushed me to work harder towards securing my High School diploma and my Bachelor's Degree in Nursing(BSN). I know that if she could look at me today she would be very happy to see me working day by day to achieve my career aspirations. When I was 9 years old my appendix burst and spread poison throughout my body. I was told that if I stayed home another night my parents would have woken up to a deceased child. I went through pain and suffering for a total of 6 weeks while being confined to a Hospital room and pulling through multiple surgeries. Eight years have passed since I was released from the hospital and the scar remains on the right side of my abdomen. To some, it may seem like a reminder of the life-changing experience, but to me, it's a daily dose of motivation towards becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Nurse to help infants who are critically hospitalized like I was. My sophomore year Aice English Language teacher Mrs. Harms has become one of the kindest and most supportive role models due to her constant encouragement of me to excel in life. From day one, she has always supported my dream of becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Nurse. Whether it be helping me research the required schooling or scholarship websites. The phrase "no one is stopping you, but you" was told to me a while ago by Mrs.Harms and is used today as a constant reminder in my everyday life. I will use my career to educate others by creating content on social media to educate people about the importance of healthcare professionals and their impact. The videos will revolve around how to become a Nicu nurse and my daily routine. I plan to use my career to create and promote my healthcare apparel business. My business will ship worldwide and it will sell handmade keychains, badge reels, t-shirts, and sweatshirts to any healthcare professionals who may desire them. There will be accessories and apparel for a variety of healthcare professionals, and I will take personalized orders from customers. By promoting on various social media platforms, I will inspire the younger generations to achieve their goals and obtain hard work and determination no matter how hard the obstacles may be. I will bring excitement to healthcare workers worldwide who feel that their work apparel will bring excitement to their patients/themselves.

Shirley Wise was a strong, resilient, and caring woman until she was found lifeless in her hospital bed on 08/18/2020. Her funeral was hosted days later, and the funeral home ensured that there was a limited number of people who wore masks until my Aunt was buried in the ground, the casket was closed but I'm sure that she looked as beautiful as ever. My earliest memory of my Aunt is from when she was a School bus driver, every afternoon after making her last stop she would slow down to throw candy into my hands. I would run and grab the candy as if it were my last meal, every day was the same routine. Both of my aunts bought houses in Delray Beach less than 5 feet away from each other. They spent their days with each other by walking back and forth from one house to the other, sadly this led to COVID-19 spreading at a rapid pace. On the Fourth of July, we celebrated our tradition of coming to my aunt's house to eat, dance, and spend time with each other. A visitor at my Aunt's house was undiagnosed at the time and passed it to my Aunt Shirley who then passed it on to my Aunt Verna. Whether it was my birthday or Christmas, my Aunt Shirley bought me gifts. The last dresses she bought were for Easter day, and although the dresses no longer fit they remain hung up in my closet to this day. I still have the perfume she got me for Christmas and it remains in a display case unopened. It is now 3 years later and my family has stopped participating in the "Birthday Club", which consisted of writing down everyone's birthday and surprising them with gifts. We can no longer celebrate at her house since it was sold after her death, every holiday is now spent in the house or posting about how much she is missed. I forget that my Aunt isn’t here, but the lack of a birthday post on Facebook or a new dress always snaps me back into reality. The gifts and the money were nice, but her constant support and displays of unconditional love are what I cherish. My aunt's death has become one of the main reasons that I will go through with my dreams of becoming a healthcare professional. From a very young age, I would tell my aunt that I wanted to be a nurse, during one of my last conversations with her she said to become the provider that the world needs, and ever since her words have stuck with me. A fear ignited in me like no other. I distanced myself from my friends from August 2020 until July 2021 and wore a mask until the end of my Sophomore year. I caught COVID-19 in January of 2021 and feared that I would face a similar fate. My aunt died 13 days before the start of my Freshman year, I was enrolled in online schooling due to the pandemic but I know that she would have loved watching me experience the joys that High School brought me. She always talked about being the loudest person screaming when I walked across the stage at graduation, but only 6 more months remain and she isn't here to see it. Her not being present has pushed me to do whatever it takes until that diploma is mine, I always tell myself that she will be screaming from above when I walk across the stage.

Skin color isn’t a gun or a knife so why are people being murdered in cold blood because of it? It seems that every time I open TikTok or Twitter, another life has been taken away for “resisting arrest”. The phrase “ACAB"(all cops are bad) is used across various social media platforms to show the fear that lies in individuals' hearts. Movies such as “The Hate U Give”, depict the fictional and real-life stories of African-American men and women who have been murdered by police officers. Across America, people have been killed for simply jogging around their neighborhoods or refusing to let officers enter their homes without a search warrant. Engaging in acts of kindness in predominantly black neighborhoods will generate positive opinions of police officers. Volunteering at soup kitchens, delivering care packages or attending potlucks can cause officers to form positive relationships with people in their communities and lower the negative stereotypes about them. Bonding with children and young teens will lower the fear that’s being passed on from mother to daughter and father to son, in many households children are being taught to record when getting pulled over and have witnesses present “just in case”. Acts of kindness will show people of all ages and colors that the police officers are willing to come together with the community and form relationships with them. Creating feedback boxes and hosting meetings will aid in POC becoming comfortable with police officers. Meetings can be held between officers and community members that are used to discuss the community, share information, and discuss public concerns/safety issues. Feedback boxes will be an alternative method for people who don’t feel comfortable meeting with law enforcement officers, they are boxes that can be stationed in front of police stations and throughout neighborhoods where people can leave notes for officers to discuss anything they wish, the writer of the notes can identify themselves or remain anonymous. This method will aid in information being collected by police officers about their community and the people they are protecting without the citizens feeling forced to disclose information. Law enforcement agencies implementing ride-along programs will show that the officers are people too, every officer isn't a villain. These programs will allow civilians of all ages to ride along with officers during their shifts. Students in criminal justice academies or civilians who wish to learn more about the daily life of police officers will surely benefit from these programs. The passenger may ask questions or generate conversations between the officers but they aren’t forced to. Ride-alongs will be an informative field trip-like activity for people of all ages to observe what officers do on their daily shifts and how they are benefiting the community. Police officers can join together with Neighborhood watch groups to build trust and reassurance. Neighborhood watch programs are a group of people from a community who work hard to create a safe and crime-free space to improve the daily lives of themselves and their neighbors, they sometimes place cameras around the neighborhood or form group chats to discuss any suspicious activity. Becoming a part of the Neighborhood Watch or supervising any action they take will show other people that the officers truly care for their safety and don’t have underlying malicious intent. The officers will aid in the protection of infants, children, teenagers, and adults of all ages by ensuring that the neighborhood is a crime and vandalization-free space to live.

Whether the lights were off or the car needed an oil change, pills were always the main priority. Excuses, excuses, excuses, they were always told but the pills were still being consumed, I waited for years but sobriety never came. I spent my entire childhood wishing that my father would put down the pill bottles and become the perfect family man he was prior. My father got hurt on the job and was sent to a nearby Doctor. The doctor prescribed him painkillers which led to him constantly begging for more medication to numb the pain. For as long as I can remember my dad would stay home a few days per month due to him being “sick”. I later found out that “sick” was my parent's code word for withdrawals. He would sleep all day and have cold sweats, shake, barely eat, and vomit. The following day, he would storm out of the house to search for pills before attending work. Watching my father struggle through withdrawals has led me to believe that taking one tablet can mark the start of a lifelong addiction. I believe that sobriety must become a goal, not something that is pushed onto an individual by other people. I have seen and heard of many other people going to rehab and coming back as a completely different person. I believe that if my father were to go to rehab he would only come back and relapse, he doesn’t want to stop consuming the medications because he is convinced that they are the key to all his problems. The pills become a craving. This is the resulting belief of watching my father have seizure after seizure and withdrawal after withdrawal. Nothing seems to stop my father from taking his meds. Humans are known to crave appetizing foods such as pizza or lasagna, I think addicts crave substances similar to the way we crave things like love and attention. My father's addiction hasn’t affected my relationships with my friends since they are unaware, and I fear that pity will be the result. My relationships with my mom, brother, and sister have strengthened since my father's addiction began, we constantly support each other in the best ways possible in hopes of this decade of pain coming to an end. My relationship with my father remains the same, I don’t confront him about his addiction or hate him for it since I’m not in his shoes and never will be. My experience with substance abuse has helped me develop a greater motivation towards pursuing a career path that will ensure that I will bring smiles to people's faces. Growing up I would play a game called Doctor” with my family where I would pretend to be a doctor and diagnose everyone in my house and then bring them “medicine”. I will attend a college or university during the 2024-2025 school year to begin my journey of becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Nurse.

Oktoberfest is a German food and beer festival that combines German culture with American culture. A variety of carnival rides, meals, beer, pop-up shops, concessions stands, entertainment, and merchandise are offered. I volunteered at the festival on October 14, 2023, from 2-6 p.m. I was assigned to the German Country Club to serve red cabbage, goulash, mashed potatoes, pork shanks, Jägerschnitzel, sauerbraten, Brötchen, and noodles. By volunteering, I helped the JROTC on-campus academy by being one of their present volunteers and lessened the stress put on the kitchen staff to meet the needs of the customers. During my sophomore and junior years of High School, I donated my scrubs to the less fortunate and gained 30 community service hours. My main focus was helping my peers who couldn't afford to purchase scrubs. Each year I purchased 2 pairs of scrubs, one for me to wear throughout the year and the other for me to donate during the last month of school. In 2022, I participated in the Jrotc Academy car wash. I washed and dried cars and held up signs in front of the School to promote the car wash. The driver of each car paid $5, which helped to save up for the Military ball(an annual formal event that JROTC Academy students and their plus-one attend to enjoy dancing, eating German meals, and interacting with each other). In December of 2021, I became certified in performing adult and infant CPR. During my sophomore year of High School, I was enrolled in an Emergency Medical Responder class which focused on the roles, responsibilities, and daily life of healthcare professionals. Passing scores on the physical exam(performing CPR on adult and infant mannequins) and paper exam were necessary to earn your CPR card. Many of my classmates struggled when it came to passing the physical aspect of their certification exam. I practiced with them every day during class, and our hard work paid off. Each of the students I practiced with passed their exams and earned their cards. In return for my help, my teacher gave me community service hours. My sister started a business earlier this year, she sells cakes, cupcakes, and dinner plates to anyone in the Lake Worth, Delray, or Boynton Beach areas. When she first started, she was only getting orders from friends and family. I disliked my sister struggling with something she was so passionate about, so I promoted her dinner plates and desserts on my Instagram story and highlights in hopes of my sister's business becoming more successful. In August of 2018, I was riding home with my parents when I saw 5 baby turtles who had been hit while attempting to cross the road. I ran over, hoping to find at least one turtle to save, and there I found Cleo. It is now 5 years later and Cleo is a healthy and happy turtle who is as sweet as can be, after bringing Cleo home I discovered my love for turtles and ended up purchasing 2 more, whom I named Chloe and Crush. In June of 2023, It rained a majority of the time, which led to the trash can in our backyard filling with rainwater. One day, I entered my mother's room and heard yelps and then gurgling, I looked out the window and Milo(Ivy's kitten) was drowning in the water. I immediately ran outside and reached for him, half of my arm became submerged in the water before I felt his fur caressing my hand. Today, Milo is alive and well and he is the sweetest boy with the warmest eyes.

Earning the “Bright Lights” Scholarship will aid in paying a portion of my college tuition. I wish to stay close to home by attending Palm Beach State College, whose tuition is around $6-8,000 per year. For me to attend college full time I will need help financially, if the money doesn’t go towards tuition I will be sure to use it on books or any required school supplies. I understand that my parents may struggle financially at some point when it comes to generating money for my college funds, which is why I wish to help them by winning this scholarship and many more. By winning this scholarship I will be able to attend college and get into my desired college’s medical program. The medical program will help me earn the education and certifications that I need to become prepared for taking my NCLEX (National Council Licensure Examination). Upon obtaining a passing score on this exam I will become a licensed Registered Nurse, meaning that I will be able to apply to my desired hospitals as a new grad Nurse. I hope that after completing my 4-year college journey, I will obtain my dream job as a level 4 Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Nurse. I envision myself becoming a level 4 neonatal intensive care unit nurse. I always knew I wanted to be a nurse, it may sound absurd but I developed this passion at an early age due to watching “Doc McStuffins” as a child. Doc McStuffins is a 6-year-old girl with a wild imagination, she has a playhouse clinic where toys come to life to communicate with her. She and her assistants fix any problem the toys may have, whether this may be a missing battery or lack of stuffing. Her ability to heal her “patients” pushed me to develop a want to become a healthcare professional just like her. As a nurse, I will nurture every patient and ensure that they become the healthiest and happiest babies possible. My High School’s medical program, the Medical Sciences Academy only pushed me more towards becoming a healthcare professional, by allowing me to experience a doctor’s office setting and a pharmacy setting to gain clinical hours. I plan on attending a 4-year college/university during the 2024-2025 school year, this will only be the start of my nursing journey. I also plan to start my own healthcare apparel business to generate income. My business will ship worldwide and it will sell handmade keychains, badge reels, t-shirts, and sweatshirts to any healthcare professionals who may desire them. There will be accessories and apparel for a variety of healthcare professionals, and I will take customized orders from customers. By promoting on various social media platforms, I will inspire the younger generations to achieve their goals and obtain hard work and determination no matter how hard the obstacles may be. I will bring excitement to healthcare workers worldwide who feel that their work apparel will bring excitement to their patients/themselves. I plan on starting my own business due to my want of becoming my own boss, the idea of being able to fall back on another career path has always been exciting to me. If I ever decide to take a break from nursing then I will still be bringing in a substantial amount of money to support myself financially.

My name is De'juh Hickman and I am a passionate and devoted senior at Santaluces Community High School. I am in my 4th year of being in the Medical Sciences Academy and I enjoy obtaining community service hours by donating my medical scrubs to the less fortunate and washing cars with the JROTC on-campus academy to save up for the Military ball. Aice classes are truly a joy for me. I have taken 8 within the last 4 years: Aice International History, Aice English Language, Aice Literature(A level), Aice Literature(AS level), Aice U.S. History, Aice Environmental Management, Aice General Paper, and Aice Travel and Tourism. After High School, I want to become a neonatal intensive care unit nurse and create my own healthcare apparel business. If I’m not flipping through the pages of the newest book on the market, you can find me creating decorations/fashion items or writing. I envision myself becoming a level 4 neonatal intensive care unit nurse. I always knew I wanted to be a nurse, it may sound absurd but I developed this passion at an early age due to watching “Doc McStuffins” as a child. Doc McStuffins is a 6-year-old girl with a wild imagination, she has a playhouse clinic where toys come to life to communicate with her. She and her assistants fix any problem the toys may have, whether this may be a missing battery or lack of stuffing. Her ability to heal her “patients” pushed me to develop a want to become a healthcare professional just like her. As a nurse, I will nurture every patient and ensure that they become the healthiest and happiest babies possible. My High School’s medical program, the Medical Sciences Academy only pushed me more towards becoming a healthcare professional, by allowing me to experience a doctor’s office setting and a pharmacy setting to gain clinical hours. I plan on attending a 4-year college/university during the 2024-2025 school year, this will only be the start of my nursing journey. I also plan to start my own healthcare apparel business to generate income. My business will ship worldwide and it will sell handmade keychains, badge reels, t-shirts, and sweatshirts to any healthcare professionals who may desire them. There will be accessories and apparel for a variety of healthcare professionals, and I will take customized orders from customers. By promoting on various social media platforms, I will inspire the younger generations to achieve their goals and obtain hard work and determination no matter how hard the obstacles may be. I will bring excitement to healthcare workers worldwide who feel that their work apparel will bring excitement to their patients/themselves. I plan on starting my own business due to my want of becoming my own boss, the idea of being able to fall back on another career path has always been exciting to me. If I ever decide to take a break from nursing then I will still be bringing in a substantial amount of money to support myself financially. Overall, becoming a positive role model for the people around me and leaving a memorable impact on the World has to be one of my biggest goals in life. Giving back to my community, helping out parents and their infants, and becoming an entrepreneur will help me achieve these goals in the years to come. I plan to make a positive impact on my community and the world by creating online content and merchandise for people to interact with worldwide.

My sophomore year Aice English Language teacher Mrs. Harms is the most influential person in my life. She has become one of the kindest and most supportive role models within the last 3 years due to her constant encouragement of me to excel in life. She constantly uses her career to uplift others on campus by ensuring that they’re aware of their importance and impact. A key lesson that Mrs.Harms taught me is to never give up on anyone. She receives students that others would call “troublemakers'', some of whom are frequently vaping in the bathrooms, engaging in fights, and disrespecting their teachers. A handful of these students have been taken under her wing and many have begun to excel in her class and their other classes. Many people have called my goals “unrealistic” and “Foolish” She constantly disregards the opinions of others and tells me that the sky's the limit as long as I continue to believe in myself. She has told me many inspirational phrases such as “You deserve better than that” and “They are lucky to have you”. Her mother-like nature has been one of the most impactful aspects of my high school career, without her I likely would have switched to a career path that would appeal to those around me instead of myself. From day one, she has always supported my dream of becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Nurse. Whether it be helping me research the required schooling, scholarship websites, or colleges and universities. She has taught me to always be supportive of other people's goals and to help them achieve them if possible. The phrase "no one is stopping you, but you" was told to me a while ago by Mrs.Harms and Is used today as a constant reminder in my everyday life. During my freshman year of High School, I was confined to my bedroom and allowed to turn off my camera and microphone during Zoom calls with my teachers and classmates. I remember leaving meetings when asked to answer questions, communicate with other students, or even discuss the lesson. This cycle repeated until the end of my Freshman year, which concluded my virtual schooling experience and marked the beginning of the preparation period for my return to public school. Upon arriving for my first day of 10th grade, I met Mrs.Harms who undoubtedly created an everlasting impact on me. It may sound impossible but someone whom you haven't known for long can be more influential than an individual who has been present during your entire life.

My name is De'juh Hickman and I am a passionate and devoted senior at Santaluces Community High School. I am in my 4th year of being in the Medical Sciences Academy and I enjoy obtaining community service hours by donating my medical scrubs to the less fortunate and washing cars with the JROTC on-campus academy to save up for the Military ball. Aice classes are truly a joy for me. I have taken 8 within the last 4 years: Aice International History, Aice English Language, Aice Literature(A level), Aice Literature(AS level), Aice U.S. History, Aice Environmental Management, Aice General Paper, and Aice Travel and Tourism. After High School, I want to become a neonatal intensive care unit nurse and create my own healthcare apparel business. If I’m not flipping through the pages of the newest book on the market, you can find me creating decorations/fashion items or writing. I plan to create my own healthcare apparel business. My business will ship worldwide and it will sell handmade keychains, badge reels, t-shirts, and sweatshirts to any healthcare professionals who may desire them. There will be accessories and apparel for a variety of healthcare professionals, and I will take personalized orders from customers. By promoting on various social media platforms, I will inspire the younger generations to achieve their goals and obtain hard work and determination no matter how hard the obstacles may be. I will bring excitement to healthcare workers worldwide who feel that their work apparel will bring excitement to their patients/themselves. I’m going to become a neonatal intensive care unit in the years to come. I will use my career to educate others by posting diverse content on social media to educate people about the importance of healthcare professionals and their impact on our everyday lives. I will post videos on how to become a Nicu nurse and what a day in the life of a Nicu nurse looks like. These videos will be used to paint a positive image of healthcare as a whole and inspire people to become neonatal nurses. I will give back to my community by donating things like food and clothes to people who may be homeless or suffering financially. I plan on purchasing toys and donating them to children who have parents who cannot afford to buy them Christmas gifts. I understand that Christmas is more about spending time with family and friends and not spending money on gifts, but I will help every child I can to receive a gift on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. Overall, becoming a positive role model for the people around me and leaving a memorable impact on the World has to be one of my biggest goals in life. Giving back to my community, helping out parents and their infants, and becoming an entrepreneur will help me achieve these goals in the years to come. I plan to make a positive impact on my community and the world by creating online content and merchandise for people to interact with worldwide.

My sophomore year Aice English Language teacher Mrs. Harms is the most influential person in my life. She has become one of the kindest and most supportive role models within the last 3 years due to her constant encouragement of me to excel in life. She constantly uses her career to uplift others on campus by ensuring that they’re aware of their importance and impact. A key lesson that Mrs.Harms taught me is to never give up on anyone. She receives students that others would call “troublemakers'', some of whom are frequently vaping in the bathrooms, engaging in fights, and disrespecting their teachers. A handful of these students have been taken under her wing and many have begun to excel in her class and their other classes. Many people have called my goals “unrealistic” and “Foolish” She constantly disregards the opinions of others and tells me that the sky's the limit as long as I continue to believe in myself. She has told me many inspirational phrases such as “You deserve better than that” and “They are lucky to have you”. Her mother-like nature has been one of the most impactful aspects of my high school career, without her I likely would have switched to a career path that would appeal to those around me instead of myself. From day one, she has always supported my dream of becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Nurse. Whether it be helping me research the required schooling, scholarship websites, or colleges and universities. She has taught me to always be supportive of other people's goals and to help them achieve them if possible. The phrase "no one is stopping you, but you" was told to me a while ago by Mrs.Harms and Is used today as a constant reminder in my everyday life. During my freshman year of High School, I was confined to my bedroom and allowed to turn off my camera and microphone during Zoom calls with my teachers and classmates. I remember leaving meetings when asked to answer questions, communicate with other students, or even discuss the lesson. This cycle repeated until the end of my Freshman year, which concluded my virtual schooling experience and marked the beginning of the preparation period for my return to public school. Upon arriving for my first day of 10th grade, I met Mrs.Harms who undoubtedly created an everlasting impact on me. It may sound impossible but someone whom you haven't known for long can be more influential than an individual who has been present during your entire life.

My cousins and I began running around and getting on rides. After around five or six, we were called over to sing happy birthday to my little cousin, who looked happier than ever to eat cake and celebrate with Chucky. While in immense pain, I constantly put a big smile on my face and got on rides. The last ride swung up and down making the pain unbearable and me immobile. I told everyone that I wasn’t feeling well and began holding my abdomen because it felt like I was being cut from the inside out. When we arrived at the hospital, I was taken into a room to receive an ultrasound. I remember the fluid being as purple as lavender and as cold as ice. The device circled my abdomen shortly before it was put away and the fluid was wiped off. After the tech exited out of the curtain I could see nurses running on the other side like madmen. I wasn’t nervous until I heard the words “emergency surgery.” Before I knew it, I was rushed into surgery to receive an appendectomy. A mask was put on my face and anesthesia began to consume me. I woke up in a room with a window, couch, television, bathroom, hallway, and exit door. All I could hear were recurring beeping noises that were coming from the various machines with wires flowing through me and the droplets of fluid being caught by a singular plastic pouch. By the end of week one, the doctor stated that staying home another night would have resulted in my parents waking up to a deceased child. During this week, tubes were inserted inside and outside of my esophagus in an attempt to remove fluids and I began consuming fluids and medicine through an IV. Around week two or three, the Doctor announced that I would be able to play in the playroom with other children who were also staying in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit(PICU) or pediatrics unit. I rushed over to the playroom and met a boy with brown skin, light eyes, and dark hair. We quickly became friends and played with toys for hours on end. Everything was great until the doctor stated that the tube method wasn't collecting a sufficient amount of fluid. He suggested another surgery that would form incisions in my abdomen to attach tubes to pouches. The tubes would act as a pathway and the pouches as a bag. I was later cleared to go to the playroom, but I never saw my friend again. Around week four or five, the doctor announced a final surgery that would remove the pouches. The same night that I was cleared by the doctors to consume solids, my dad showed up with boxes of Picasso’s cheese pizza and honey barbecue wings. I remember the staff rejoicing at grease dripping down my chin. During week six, my parents signed me out and wheeled me out to the car. The tires screeched and the wind blew in my face as we rode to Bud’s Chicken & Seafood. We got enough chicken, fries, potato salad, and shrimp to feed an entire village. It's been eight years since I was released from the hospital and the scar remains on the right side of my abdomen. To some, it may seem like a reminder of the pain and suffering I went through, but to me, it's a daily dose of motivation towards becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Nurse to help infants who are critically hospitalized like I was.

My sophomore year Aice English Language teacher Mrs. Harms is the most influential person in my life. She has become one of the kindest and most supportive role models within the last 3 years due to her constant encouragement of me to excel in life. She constantly uses her career to uplift others on campus by ensuring that they’re aware of their importance and impact. A key lesson that Mrs.Harms taught me is to never give up on anyone. She receives students that others would call “troublemakers'', some of whom are frequently vaping in the bathrooms, engaging in fights, and disrespecting their teachers. A handful of these students have been taken under her wing and many have begun to excel in her class and their other classes. Many people have called my goals “unrealistic” and “Foolish” She constantly disregards the opinions of others and tells me that the sky's the limit as long as I continue to believe in myself. She has told me many inspirational phrases such as “You deserve better than that” and “They are lucky to have you”. Her mother-like nature has been one of the most impactful aspects of my high school career, without her I likely would have switched to a career path that would appeal to those around me instead of myself. From day one, she has always supported my dream of becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit Nurse. Whether it be helping me research the required schooling, scholarship websites, or colleges and universities. She has taught me to always be supportive of other people's goals and to help them achieve them if possible. The phrase "no one is stopping you, but you" was told to me a while ago by Mrs.Harms and Is used today as a constant reminder in my everyday life. During my freshman year of High School, I was confined to my bedroom and allowed to turn off my camera and microphone during Zoom calls with my teachers and classmates. I remember leaving meetings when asked to answer questions, communicate with other students, or even discuss the lesson. This cycle repeated until the end of my Freshman year, which concluded my virtual schooling experience and marked the beginning of the preparation period for my return to public school. Upon arriving for my first day of 10th grade, I met Mrs.Harms who undoubtedly created an everlasting impact on me. It may sound impossible but someone whom you haven't known for long can be more influential than an individual who has been present during your entire life.

Disney Channel's “Jessie” features Jessie Prescott, a girl who leaves Texas to pursue her dream of becoming an actress. She moves to the “Big Apple '', where she meets Zuri, who drags her to the Ross’s Penthouse. Jessie gets hired by Morgan and Christina Ross as their nanny for their biological child and adopted children: Emma, Zuri, Luke, and Ravi Ross. Jessie must also learn to live with Bertram(Live-in butler) and Mrs.Kipling(Ravi's seven-foot Asian Water Monitor Lizard). The watcher observes Jessie as she grows up with the Ross children, pursues her dreams, and undergoes her daily life of being a live-in nanny. “Stuck in the Middle” focuses on the challenges and solutions that Harley Diaz develops whilst being the middle child out of 7 children: Rachel, Ethan, Daphne, Beast, Lewie, and Georgie. The parents of these children are Suzy and Tom Diaz, who struggle to keep track of their household and supervise their children. Harley deems herself an inventor due to the practical gadgets she creates to entertain her family and solve problems: the Conveyor Belt Table, The Slushinator, The Skate Kite, the Pick-Me-Up, and the snow machine. The title of the episode would be “Stuck in the Middle of the Big Apple with Jessie ''. Jessie is supervising the Ross children at Central Park when the Diaz’s walk over struggling to control their children, carry luggage, and look at maps. Suddenly, the luggage falls and Jessie starts helping them pick everything up and put it back inside of the suitcases. Jessie informs the Diaz’s about how she knows how difficult tending to multiple children at once is and explains that she's a nanny at the penthouse across the street. The Diaz kids join the Ross children while Jessie talks with Tom and Suzy about their living situation, they state that they are staying in the same building and that Tom has booked them to stay for a week before returning to Massachusetts. Jessie mentions working for Morgan(Movie director) and Christina Ross(Fashion designer) and Tom and Suzy's mouths drop, they state that they feel honored to be staying in the same building as celebrities. Luke befriends Beast and Lewie, they are break dancing, pranking people, and playing games. Zuri and Daphne are running around with Millie the Mermaid and Deathnee(Daphne's doll). Emma, Rachel, and Georgie are discussing the new fashion trends and how exhausting it is to be the older sisters in a family of "brats". Ethan and Ravi are discussing life in Maschasseuts compared to New York while eating at the Park's concession stands and food carts. Jessie introduces Tony(the building’s doorman) to the Diaz’s and tells him that they will be staying in the building. He checks them in and states that there is no reservation for them in the system and that they can’t stay in the building. Jessie calls Morgan and Christina to ask if they can stay in the Penthouse and they agree that the children will surely enjoy their company. The rest of the episode will consist of the Ross’s giving the Diaz’s a tour of the Big Apple and what it has to offer. Jessie will take care of the Diaz and Ross children, while Tom and Suzy go out on dates and enjoy their vacation. Bertram will complain about being forced to cook and clean up after more people, and Morgan and Christina will frequently call to check in on everyone. The children will likely spend their time going to the park, watching movies, causing havoc, and playing with Mrs.Kipling.

My name is De'juh Hickman and I am a passionate and devoted senior at Santaluces Community High School. I am in my 4th year of being in the Medical Sciences Academy and I enjoy obtaining community service hours by donating my medical scrubs to the less fortunate and washing cars with the JROTC on-campus academy to save up for the Military ball. Aice classes are truly a joy for me. I have taken 8 within the last 4 years: Aice International History, Aice English Language, Aice Literature(A level), Aice Literature(AS level), Aice U.S. History, Aice Environmental Management, Aice General Paper, and Aice Travel and Tourism. After High School, I want to become a neonatal intensive care unit nurse and create my own healthcare apparel business. If I’m not flipping through the pages of the newest book on the market, you can find me creating decorations/fashion items or writing. I envision myself becoming a level 4 neonatal intensive care unit nurse. I always knew I wanted to be a nurse, it may sound absurd but I developed this passion at an early age due to watching “Doc McStuffins” as a child. Doc McStuffins is a 6-year-old girl with a wild imagination, she has a playhouse clinic where toys come to life to communicate with her. She and her assistants fix any problem the toys may have, whether this may be a missing battery or lack of stuffing. Her ability to heal her “patients” pushed me to develop a want to become a healthcare professional just like her. As a nurse, I will nurture every patient and ensure that they become the healthiest and happiest babies possible. My High School’s medical program, the Medical Sciences Academy only pushed me more towards becoming a healthcare professional, by allowing me to experience a doctor’s office setting and a pharmacy setting to gain clinical hours. I plan on attending a 4-year college/university during the 2024-2025 school year, this will only be the start of my nursing journey. I also plan to start my own healthcare apparel business to generate income. My business will ship worldwide and it will sell handmade keychains, badge reels, t-shirts, and sweatshirts to any healthcare professionals who may desire them. There will be accessories and apparel for a variety of healthcare professionals, and I will take customized orders from customers. By promoting on various social media platforms, I will inspire the younger generations to achieve their goals and obtain hard work and determination no matter how hard the obstacles may be. I will bring excitement to healthcare workers worldwide who feel that their work apparel will bring excitement to their patients/themselves. I plan on starting my own business due to my want of becoming my own boss, the idea of being able to fall back on another career path has always been exciting to me. If I ever decide to take a break from nursing then I will still be bringing in a substantial amount of money to support myself financially. Overall, becoming a positive role model for the people around me and leaving a memorable impact on the World has to be one of my biggest goals in life. Giving back to my community, helping out parents and their infants, and becoming an entrepreneur will help me achieve these goals in the years to come. I plan to make a positive impact on my community and the world by creating online content and merchandise for people to interact with worldwide.

Your mental health status is important no matter what age you are, you should always take care of yourself and your mental wellbeing. The mental health of an individual affects how they think, behave, and deal with situations. To me being healthy mentally means feeling happy and secure and completing my daily routine without constant stress or sadness. My mental health has been and always will be one of the most important and impactful aspects of my life. Without me being healthy mentally I wouldn’t be able to form new relationships or continue old ones, my friends and family mean the world to me and I couldn’t imagine isolating myself from them due to my mental status. If I am unhealthy mentally then it would almost be impossible for me to perform well on an academic scale. I have worked very hard to determine that my future will be bright and successful. I would only be disappointing myself and everyone who has played a role in my educational journey if I sacrificed my academic performance and achievement. Being healthy mentally is important to me because it ensures that I will make decisions that will likely be favorable for me in the future and won’t harm me or my peers. To maintain my mental well-being I have mental health days. This is a day filled with exciting activities that result in me feeling good about myself: Pedicures, watching my favorite movies, eating my favorite meals and snacks, obtaining a sufficient amount of sleep, cleaning my room, creating a bucket list, and getting caught up on any homework/classwork assignments. The little things always seem to make me feel better, whether this be rewarding myself with a chocolate bar or rewatching movies that significantly contributed to my childhood. I notice that my mental health typically tends to decline when I isolate myself from others, so I also love to spend time with my friends/family and participate in activities that we all enjoy: baking, cooking, going to the park, watching movies, and trying new foods. Recently I have learned that being calm and stress-free has positively impacted my mental well-being, I love listening to classical music on YouTube while reading books. Overall, the mental health of an individual should be an active priority throughout their life span. Many hotlines, Therapists, and Doctors are available to help anyone who may be struggling mentally. Everyone deserves to live a healthy and happy life without having to live with an unhappy mindset. Don’t be afraid to speak up and reach out for the sake of yourself and your peers.

My name is De'juh Hickman and I am a passionate and devoted senior at Santaluces Community High School. I am in my 4th year of being in the Medical Sciences Academy and I enjoy obtaining community service hours by donating my medical scrubs to the less fortunate and washing cars with the JROTC on-campus academy to save up for the military ball. Aice classes are truly a joy for me. I have taken 8 within the last 4 years: Aice International History, Aice English Language, Aice Literature(A level), Aice Literature(AS level), Aice U.S. History, Aice Environmental Management, Aice General Paper, and Aice Travel and Tourism. After High School, I want to become a neonatal intensive care unit nurse and create my own healthcare apparel business. If I’m not flipping through the pages of the newest book on the market, you can find me creating decorations/fashion items or writing. I plan to create my own healthcare apparel business. My business will ship worldwide and it will sell handmade keychains, badge reels, t-shirts, and sweatshirts to any healthcare professionals who may desire them. There will be accessories and apparel for a variety of healthcare professionals, and I will take personalized orders from customers. By promoting on various social media platforms, I will inspire the younger generations to achieve their goals and obtain hard work and determination no matter how hard the obstacles may be. I will bring excitement to healthcare workers worldwide who feel that their work apparel will bring excitement to their patients/themselves. I’m going to become a neonatal intensive care unit in the years to come. I will use my career to educate others by posting diverse content on social media to educate people about the importance of healthcare professionals and their impact on our everyday lives. I will post videos on how to become a Nicu nurse and what a day in the life of a Nicu nurse looks like. These videos will be used to paint a positive image of healthcare as a whole and inspire people to become neonatal nurses. I will give back to my community by donating things like food and clothes to people who may be homeless or suffering financially. I plan on purchasing toys and donating them to children who have parents who cannot afford to buy them Christmas gifts. I understand that Christmas is more about spending time with family and friends and not spending money on gifts, but I will help every child I can to receive a gift on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. Overall, becoming a positive role model for the people around me and leaving a memorable impact on the World has to be one of my biggest goals in life. Giving back to my community, helping out parents and their infants, and becoming an entrepreneur will help me achieve these goals in the years to come. I plan to make a positive impact on my community and the world by creating online content and merchandise for people to interact with worldwide.

Olivia Rodrigo is a singer, songwriter, and actress. Many people know her from her role on Disney Channel’s Bizaardvark, where she played Paige Olvera, a teenage guitar player and best friend of Frankie Wong(Madison Hu). Since condensing her appearance on Disney, she has produced two albums: Sour(2021), and Guts(2023). The Guts album includes a total of 12 rock/pop songs that revolve around Olivia’s life from adolescence to adulthood. “You fix the things you hated and you’d still feel so insecure and I try to ignore it, but it’s everything I see. It’s on the poster on the wall, it’s in the shitty magazines, It’s in my phone, it’s in my head”. This lyric is from the fifth song on the album, titled “Pretty Isn’t Pretty”. Olivia acknowledges the pressure to meet unrealistic beauty standards. If the insecurities of a person are fixed, they would find another thing to take their places. Magazines and social media result in a constant need to have the “ideal” physical appearance, they create unrealistic standards for how people should look and plaster them everywhere. I am present on social media. I see other women who have more developed bodies and prettier faces. From when I first began being active on social media to now, I’ve always followed a variety of Instagram models who have what society paints as the “perfect body”. If you don’t have the runway model build( 5 '9 and above, small bust, small hips, and small waist) or an hourglass figure( equal shoulder/bust proportion and a small waist) your body will likely be ridiculed from every angle and you’ll be criticized for not eating enough/eating too much. Without even realizing it, I frequently compare myself to these women whenever I look in the mirror. I have been on the thinner side my entire life and worked very hard to gain weight to obtain the ideal hourglass figure, despite my past dissatisfaction I have come to terms with my body and learned to love it. Whether it be my weight, smile, or bust, I’ve been insecure about everything on my body at one point or another. I’ve tried to fix my insecurities by gaining weight, hiding my smile, covering up my body with clothing, and changing my sense of style. No matter what I do my insecurities will manage to trap me in a web of uncertainty and envy. It seems that I always manage to develop new insecurities throughout my life, if the old ones are fixed the new ones swoop in. In every picture that I have taken, I always find something to be insecure about. Whether this be how my eyes appear or even the way that my face is shaped. I even critique the pictures that other people take of me and avoid taking pictures without Snapchat/Instagram filters attached to them. When I do look back on a picture I try not to stare for too long, my immediate response is to find what’s wrong with it and delete it to save myself from embarrassment and regret. Overall, this lyric is Olivia’s way of saying stop placing standards on people. What we see on social media and posters is fake and shouldn’t be used to determine the worth and beauty of an individual. Social media influencers and celebrities alter their bodies by using things like FaceTune and surgery. Young girls shouldn’t be idealizing fake bodies and facial features, it simply isn’t good for their mental health and perception of their bodies.

I envision myself becoming a level 4 neonatal intensive care unit nurse. I always knew I wanted to be a nurse, it may sound absurd but I developed this passion at an early age due to watching “Doc McStuffins” as a child. Doc McStuffins is a 6-year-old girl with a wild imagination, she has a playhouse clinic where toys come to life to communicate with her. She and her assistants fix any problem the toys may have, whether this may be a missing battery or lack of stuffing. Her ability to heal her “patients” pushed me to develop a want to become a healthcare professional just like her. As a nurse, I will nurture every patient and ensure that they become the healthiest and happiest babies possible. My High School’s medical program, the Medical Sciences Academy only pushed me more towards becoming a healthcare professional, by allowing me to experience a doctor’s office setting and a pharmacy setting to gain clinical hours. I plan on attending a 4-year college/university during the 2024-2025 school year, this will only be the start of my nursing journey. Despite planning to become a nurse, I also plan to start my own healthcare apparel business to generate income. My business will ship worldwide and it will sell handmade keychains, badge reels, t-shirts, and sweatshirts to any healthcare professionals who may desire them. There will be accessories and apparel for a variety of healthcare professionals, and I will take customized orders from customers. By promoting on various social media platforms, I will inspire the younger generations to achieve their goals and obtain hard work and determination no matter how hard the obstacles may be. I will bring excitement to healthcare workers worldwide who feel that their work apparel will bring excitement to their patients/themselves. I plan on starting my own business due to my want of becoming my own boss, the idea of being able to fall back on another career path has always been exciting to me. If I ever decide to take a break from nursing then I will still be bringing in a substantial amount of money to support myself financially. To me, a successful life means that I am happy, healthy and successful. It means that I have my dream car, house, and career. I am stable financially, healthy physically, and happy mentally. Nothing can bring me down or stand in the way of reaching my goals, and my day-to-day life brings me immense happiness and satisfaction. I have no complaints about my life and can do as I please. There is no definite way to ensure that my career endeavors are successful, but I will do my best to ensure that they are. I will promote my business to my coworkers, across every social media platform and to my family and friends. I will bring excitement to my customers by frequently having discounts and coupon codes and releasing new products. Providing great customer service and quick responses to questions and emails will also help to ensure that customers continue buying my products. Being creative when it comes to the design and physical appearance of products will make my business stand out from others, this can help ensure the engagement of customers.

I would watch “Romeo+Juliet” for all of eternity if it was possible. It’s a romantic tragedy movie that retells the story of William Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet” Play. The Montagues and the Capulets have never gotten along, they have been feuding for as long as time. The hatred is being passed down to their children who are taught to never trust someone from the opposing family. Benvolio and Romeo crash the Capulet’s party, he goes to the restroom and sees Juliet, her captivating eyes and alluring essence immediately draw him in. The love between a Capulet and a Montague brings death, suicide, and sadness to Fair, Verona. I love the movie’s display of love and its effect on the human mind and soul. The relationship between Romeo and Juliet shows that the love in one’s heart will outweigh all hate, Romeo and Juliet were taught to despise each other from an early age, and even after finding out the true identities of each other, they continue to let their love prosper. The power of love is shown in the play due to Romeo and Juliet's willingness to run away with each other and die if it meant that they could openly express their affection in the afterlife. Luhrman adapts the movie for it to include a blend of modern-day and old-fashioned periods. Rather than two ordinary wealthy suburban families, the Montagues and the Capulets are competing rival gangs who use guns rather than swords. The use of a modern weapon generates suspense and excitement, the watcher can see threats, violent shootings, and death arise in both families due to hatred and the realization of Romeo and Juliet’s unconditional love. At the beginning of the film, a news reporter is broadcasting about the deaths of Romeo and Juliet on television. I love that Luhrman used this as a way of foreshadowing the movie’s ending and beginning the movie with how news is still being received today. The introduction of early modern English, fashion, ideas on marriage, and party costumes display the contemporary style of the decade and how the people of this decade differed in how they lived their everyday lives. I love that the movie is a blend of old-fashioned and modern-day times, it allows the people of my generation and younger generations to relate to it and observe the conditions of how older generations lived their day-to-day lives. The film toys with the timeless problems of human beings of any decade: Forbidden love, toxic parents, mental health, suicide, rebellious teen years, and feeling that one has failed as a parent. Regardless of the generation or age of a person, a majority of people will relate to suffering with something that revolves around one of these topics. Unlike many other movies that are set in this period, “Romeo+Juliet” includes timeless themes and topics that people of all ages and social classes can relate to/learn from. The movie itself doesn't revolve around the stereotypical ideal old-fashioned family, it shows that almost every family has flaws that have the potential to advance and make the entire family dynamic crumble. Overall, it's an astonishing and thrilling film that I will continue to rewatch, I would even be willing to make it the only film that I watch for the rest of my life. I love that the film takes Wiliam Shakespear’s play and throws a bit of modern language and concepts into it to form a timeless, riveting, and complex display of love and intimacy.

My name is De'juh Hickman and I am a passionate and devoted senior at Santaluces Community High School. I am in my 4th year of being in the Medical Sciences Academy and I enjoy obtaining community service hours by donating my medical scrubs to the less fortunate and washing cars with the JROTC on-campus academy to save up for the military ball. Aice classes are truly a joy for me. I have taken 8 within the last 4 years: Aice International History, Aice English Language, Aice Literature(A level), Aice Literature(AS level), Aice U.S. History, Aice Environmental Management, Aice General Paper, and Aice Travel and Tourism. After High School, I want to become a neonatal intensive care unit nurse and create my own healthcare apparel business. If I’m not flipping through the pages of the newest book on the market, you can find me creating decorations/fashion items or writing. I plan to create my own healthcare apparel business. My business will ship worldwide and it will sell handmade keychains, badge reels, t-shirts, and sweatshirts to any healthcare professionals who may desire them. There will be accessories and apparel for a variety of healthcare professionals, and I will take personalized orders from customers. By promoting on various social media platforms, I will inspire the younger generations to achieve their goals and obtain hard work and determination no matter how hard the obstacles may be. I will bring excitement to healthcare workers worldwide who feel that their work apparel will bring excitement to their patients/themselves. I’m going to become a neonatal intensive care unit in the years to come. I will use my career to educate others by posting diverse content on social media to educate people about the importance of healthcare professionals and their impact on our everyday lives. I will post videos on how to become a Nicu nurse and what a day in the life of a Nicu nurse looks like. These videos will be used to paint a positive image of healthcare as a whole and inspire people to become neonatal nurses. I will give back to my community by donating things like food and clothes to people who may be homeless or suffering financially. I plan on purchasing toys and donating them to children who have parents who cannot afford to buy them Christmas gifts. I understand that Christmas is more about spending time with family and friends and not spending money on gifts, but I will help every child I can to receive a gift on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. Overall, becoming a positive role model for the people around me and leaving a memorable impact on the World has to be one of my biggest goals in life. Giving back to my community, helping out parents and their infants, and becoming an entrepreneur will help me achieve these goals in the years to come. I plan to make a positive impact on my community and the world by creating online content and merchandise for people to interact with worldwide.

My future self is a devoted and passionate woman who is leaving a positive impact on the world by being a neonatal intensive care unit nurse, she has started her own healthcare apparel business and cosmetic business, and she is a woman whom other people can look up to as a role model.

I have a 3-year-old cat named Ivy. She is a tabby cat with black stripes, brown fur, and yellow eyes. Ivy has 7 kittens: Iven, Iris, Midnight, Meela, Milo, Mocha, and Luna. I still remember when Ivy gave birth to her first litter. I walked outside and asked “Ivy where are your kittens” and within a second Ivy led me over to 3 beautiful bundles of joy. She put her paw on Iven’s head, almost as if she was saying “Mommy look at what I made”. Despite Ivy being an adult, she never fails to lay in my arms as if she’s a kitten with her paws up and her head back. It was September 2020, I was in a Zoom meeting for my geometry class when I heard strong yelps for help. Ivy had been living in a rundown shed for the first 2-3 weeks of her life. I peeked out my window and saw a frail kitten, her stomach was sunken in and mosquitos could be seen swarming her. After the meeting, I went outside to take a closer look, Ivy immediately ran up to me and stood at my feet. Her big golden eyes shined brighter than the sun, they seemed to compel me into having no choice but to take care of her. I grabbed Ivy and showed my parents, they insisted that Ivy’s mom was coming back for her, but I knew deep down that she wasn’t. I listened to my parents and put Ivy back outside, where I sat with her for hours feeding and playing with her each day. Days passed and Ivy’s mom wasn’t in sight. My family began preparing for Hurricane Sally by stocking up on food, water, and sandbags. Around day 2 of Sally, our backyard began to flood and Ivy was nowhere to be seen. I assumed that Ivy’s real mother had come to get her. Without my dad, who was building a drain in our backyard, I would have never gotten the chance to become Ivy’s mother. Ivy was drowning in the water that was flooding our backyard, each yelp was let out by her as her head was going above and below the water. That night was Ivy’s last night of being motherless, with a single grab from my father Ivy entered my house and never left. My intended degree of study is a Bachelor of Science in Nursing. I wish to become a neonatal intensive care unit nurse, who will care for ill infants. I realize that having a baby who may have complications or illnesses can be life-altering. I will do my best to take care of each baby that I’m assigned to and attempt to cheer up their parents. I believe that becoming a nurse will allow me to play a role in the lives of the next generation to come, not only will I be nurturing babies back to health, but I will also be ensuring that the loving parents of each baby are proud of what they created. I know that I’m human and Ivy is a cat, technically I will never genetically be Ivy’s mother, but that has never stopped me from nurturing and caring for Ivy as if she were my own. I will always be Ivy’s mother and that will never change and I will always be the greatest grandmother to her kittens that I can ever be.

Zendaya Maree Stoermer Coleman is a multi-talented singer and actress who has been taking over the big screen since 2010 when she appeared on television as Rocky Blue in Disney’s “Shake It Up”. She is a 27-year-old biracial woman who has been in many popular movies and television shows such as “Euphoria”, “Kc Undercover”, and “Malcolm and Marie”. I admire her due to her ability to portray characters of different backgrounds and act in films of differing genres. Starting with Euphoria, Zendaya did an amazing job at playing Rue Bennet, a biracial teen who has become addicted to drugs. While I was watching Euphoria, I forgot that Zendaya wasn’t Rue, she was able to depict some of the hardest struggles a drug addict must go through Sobriety, cutting off friends and family, and relapsing. I familiarized myself with Zendaya around 2011, while she was on “Shake It Up”, Seeing her transformation from receiving roles like Rocky and K.C to playing Rue has only made me more interested in her as a person and how she can act in movies/shows with differing genres. Zendaya’s incredible acting allowed the audience to visualize the deeper side of being an addict, Rue’s character showed that addicts can become depressed and aren’t always intentionally hurting people around them. The series “K.C Undercover” was centered around K.C Cooper, a teenage spy who must live the regular life of a teenage girl without letting anyone find out her family’s secret. I later found out that when Zendaya was offered the role of K.C. she requested that Disney cast a black family “I was like, if I'm going to do this, this is how it has to be. There needs to be a black family on Disney channel”. Zendaya’s request allowed young girls worldwide to watch people who look like them on the big screen. I love that Zendaya was able to switch from the role of a dancer to a spy. It shows the world that like her, any little girl who may be watching can do whatever they puts their mind to. This role also allowed me to see that minorities can be the face of TV shows, they don’t have to limit themselves to being side characters or extras. “Malcolm and Marie” depicts a toxic relationship between a film player and his girlfriend, who are on the brink of going their separate ways. The movie obtains a black and white cinematography that is used to admire the beauty and eye-catching scenery of older movies. I love that Zendaya gained a lead role in this film, it stands out from the other films she’s done due to its color scheme and themes. I admire Zendaya for taking on bigger roles that depict everyday struggles that occur in people’s lives, she’s an actress who can pick and choose what roles she wants due to her being able to take on the mindset of any character idea that’s thrown at her. Overall, Zendaya is a true inspiration for people of all different shapes, sizes, and skin colors. She’s a great actress and uses her platform to uplift women and bring awareness to social issues in many of the films she plays in. I see Zendaya as a woman of color, who is working to ensure her next project is better than the last. Her ability to blow me away while watching her on the big screen throughout the last decade has caused her to become one of my role models.

Can you imagine going to school every day without realizing that you’re being watched by bloodthirsty vampires who claim that you are a doppelganger of their lover? Now imagine you live in a town called Mystic Falls, you’re a 17-year-old girl named Elena Gilbert who has lost her parents to a car crash. Every day, you wake up to attend Mystic Falls High School and spend time with your best friends Bonnie and Caroline. You live with your little brother Jeremy and your aunt Jenna. It’s the first day of school and you and Bonnie arrive, everything including the people are the same until you spot a new student. He’s dressed in a black leather jacket and blue jeans. You both stand in the doorway waiting to see his face, he however is too focused on speaking about his transcripts and records to a lady in the office. The lady insists that he’s missing his immunization records and transcripts, but looks again after making eye contact with him and they appear like magic. After school, you bump into him again at the graveyard while attempting to write in your diary about your first day of school, you begin discussing the mysterious ring he wears then you look down to see your leg has a gaping wound that’s dripping blood, you briefly observe the wound and look back up to determine that he has left. A few weeks pass, and you learn that the mysterious guy’s name is Stefan Salvatore and his family is a founding family of Mystic Falls. He has many antique family heirlooms and he still hasn’t taken off the ring you noticed in the graveyard. Now imagine, everything’s going perfectly for you, your grades are good, you and your best friends are enjoying the new school year and you have landed a spot in Stefan’s heart. You have started dating Stefan, he seems like a nice guy and he’s helping you move on from your ex-boyfriend Matt. You go over to Stefan’s house to see him and a dark-haired man with blue eyes meets you at the door. He's handsome, tall, and has fair skin. The man introduces himself to you as Damon Salvatore, the older brother of Stefan Salvatore; He tells you Stefan’s last relationship with his ex Katherine “destroyed him”, Stefan appears and quickly escorts you out before the conversation goes any further. You visit Stefan’s house again. Stefan leaving his room has given you a chance to take a look around. You take in the delicate scent of candles and look through the many vintage books he has only to find a picture of yourself, but not just any picture. The picture is labeled “Katherine 1864”, how could this be you in the picture? Why does Stefan have a picture of you hidden in his room? Why is the name of his former lover written below a picture of you? Tune into “The Vampire Diaries” series to find out. Stefan is the perfect guy: handsome face, founding family, and he’s head over heels for you. His brother, Damon, has a more mysterious vibe to him, but his bright eyes seem to capture your soul. When presented with the Salvatore Brothers, who will Elena choose? Will she stay with Stefan for the long run, or will she let Damon steal her beating heart? When the mortal and immortal come together in the town of Mystic Falls, will tears be the only thing shed?

Belly’s siren-like effect leads to the Fisher Brothers becoming trapped in her alluring web of enchantment and uncertainty. A game of cat and mouse is played as she switches back and forth between each brother. Fans use the terms “Team Conrad”, “Team Jeremiah”, “Jelly”, and “Bonrad” in support of the brother Belly should choose as her lifelong partner. Bonrad shippers love the immense fire and challenge they share; While Jelly shippers like the relationship’s heartfelt moments. I’m team Conrad due to the relationship being endgame. In the season 2 finale Belly and the brothers get stuck in traffic, they then decide to settle in at a hotel until the next morning. When the night ends, Belly is lying on the bed and the brothers are lying on opposing sides of the room. Belly attempts to fall asleep but tosses and turns while facing one brother and then the other, she then lies on her back with her face towards the ceiling and her shadow facing Jeremiah while she falls asleep; However, she wakes up facing Conrad. Belly turning back and forth represents her inability to choose one brother, while her waking up facing Conrad foreshadows choosing Conrad in the long run. The light from Conrad’s side of the room covers the entirety of the bed, but the darkness from Jeremiah’s side covers a fragment. In another episode Laurel states “To Belly, Conrad is the sun and when the sun comes out the stars disappear”, which means that Conrad lightens up Belly’s life, anyone else will be second to Conrad like the sun’s light outshines the star’s darkness. Conrad fell for Belly before she turned pretty. A flashback is shown during season 2 of Belly and Conrad going to the carnival, Conrad wins a stuffed animal for Belly which she names “Junior Mint”, despite Belly thinking he stayed at the booth to conversate with a girl, he later admits that he kept trying to win the stuffed animal she wanted. She still has Junior Mint and Conrad got a friend for him when they went back to the boardwalk. This shows Conrad currently has feelings for Belly and acted on them in the past without Belly noticing. Belly herself realizes that no matter how far she attempts to push Conrad away he will always be the one for her. During the season 2 finale, Belly proceeds to hide the infinity necklace that Conrad gave her from Jeremiah. The necklace itself is a symbol of Belly and Conrad’s relationship and their love, Belly accepting the necklace shows her acknowledgement of there still being something between the two. When asked to describe her first kiss with Jeremiah and Conrad, Belly states “With Conrad I wasn’t even in my body I think I kind of blacked out, and with Jeremiah, I thought it would be really weird because we’ve been friends for so long, but it was surprisingly really hot”. Belly’s description of the kiss with Conrad shows the emotional effect it had on her, while Jeremiah’s kiss only had a physical effect on her. Overall, no matter how much Belly denies it, Conrad will always be the person she runs to. He willingly stepped in whenever she needed him, whether that be during the volleyball tournament or asking her to the ball. The sparks that fly between Conrad and Belly are enough to light up the night sky, there is no denying that the series and the sentimental storyline have developed a special place in my heart.