I was 8 years old when I stepped on American soil for the first time. Finally, in the land of the free, the glorified civilization that I stalked through my TV day and night. Yet I missed the smell of the dirt after it rained. I missed the fraternity in my neighborhood and my best friend who lived next door. I had to adapt to the language, culture, and educational system while discovering how cold the world could be to foreigners. The American dream never overshadowed my West African roots. It enticed me to tie my identity to my dream, the opportunities I’m being given are ones that I wish upon my childhood friends. However, the year I started college, my mother decided to resume her education. Though I was proud of her for her decision, her timing as my sole guardian meant I needed multiple jobs to afford school. Today, I can proudly say that I traversed those 4 years without acquiring any debt, but my journey is not over… As I begin a new Chapter pursuing a Master’s in Architecture-Engineering-Construction Management at Carnegie Mellon University, I envision how this degree could be used to advance infrastructure in my home country. The wealth inequality in Africa dramatically impacts the housing situation and health of its residents. When I lived with air conditioning, my best friend next door did not even have a paved concrete floor. The purpose of my work is to use architectural design and construction administration to facilitate building projects aimed at improving human living conditions in less economically developed countries. It does this by approaching materiality with intention, using community assembly practices, and promoting designs that support overall human health so that each project provides long-term health benefits to its community. Too often, the architects are biased toward the true identity of the neighborhoods they’re designing for. I experienced firsthand the disproportionate housing situation while living in a low-income neighborhood in NY and saw how insignificant my voice was where I lived. I gained valuable insights into building technology through internship projects such as NYCHA’s facade renovations and roof renewals. One of the most transformative aspects of this role was conducting on-site inspections, where I saw how material science, design precision, and construction practices intersect to create durable and efficient buildings. These moments were empowering, as they bridged my academic knowledge with hands-on problem-solving. In addition, one of our projects with New York City’s aging housing stock exposed me to the role advanced tools like BIM and lifecycle assessments play in creating more sustainable urban infrastructure. These experiences motivated me to explore how emerging technologies can be applied to low-cost construction in less economically developed regions, ensuring accessibility without compromising innovation. In conclusion, I should be selected for this scholarship because I plan on reaching my goal of helping others through infrastructure development, the difference is how many part-time jobs I will need again.

I was 8 years old when I stepped on American soil for the first time. Finally, in the land of the free, the glorified civilization that I stalked through my TV day and night. Yet I missed the smell of the dirt after it rained. I missed the fraternity in my neighborhood and my best friend who lived next door. I had to adapt to the language, culture, and educational system while discovering how cold the world could be to foreigners. The American dream never overshadowed my West African roots. It enticed me to tie my identity to my dream, the opportunities I’m being given are ones that I wish upon my childhood friends. However, the year I started college, my mother decided to resume her education. Though I was proud of her for her decision, her timing as my sole guardian meant I needed multiple jobs to afford school. Today, I can proudly say that I traversed those 4 years without acquiring any debt, but my journey is not over… As I begin a new Chapter pursuing a Master’s in Architecture-Engineering-Construction Management at Carnegie Mellon University, I envision how this degree could be used to advance infrastructure in my home country. The wealth inequality in Africa dramatically impacts the housing situation and health of its residents. When I lived with air conditioning, my best friend next door did not even have a paved concrete floor. The purpose of my work is to use architectural design and construction administration to facilitate building projects aimed at improving human living conditions in less economically developed countries. It does this by approaching materiality with intention, using community assembly practices, and promoting designs that support overall human health so that each project provides long-term health benefits to its community. Too often, the architects are biased toward the true identity of the neighborhoods they’re designing for. I experienced firsthand the disproportionate housing situation while living in a low-income neighborhood in NY and saw how insignificant my voice was where I lived. I gained valuable insights into building technology through internship projects such as NYCHA’s facade renovations and roof renewals. One of the most transformative aspects of this role was conducting on-site inspections, where I saw how material science, design precision, and construction practices intersect to create durable and efficient buildings. These moments were empowering, as they bridged my academic knowledge with hands-on problem-solving. In addition, one of our projects with New York City’s aging housing stock exposed me to the role advanced tools like BIM and lifecycle assessments play in creating more sustainable urban infrastructure. These experiences motivated me to explore how emerging technologies can be applied to low-cost construction in less economically developed regions, ensuring accessibility without compromising innovation. In conclusion, I should be selected for this scholarship because I plan on reaching my goal of helping others through infrastructure development, the difference is how many part-time jobs I will need again.

I was 8 years old when I stepped on American soil for the first time. Finally, in the land of the free, the glorified civilization that I stalked through my TV day and night. Yet I missed the smell of the dirt after it rained. I missed the fraternity in my neighborhood and my best friend who lived next door. The American dream never overshadowed my West African roots. It enticed me to tie my identity to my dream, the opportunities I’m being given are ones that I wish upon my childhood friends. My decision to major in architecture plays a part in how I want to give back to my continent. The wealth inequality in Africa dramatically impacts the housing situation and health of its residents. When I lived with air conditioning my best friend next door did not even have a paved concrete floor. The American footprint for a single-person residence is 9 times the African space requirement. An African person is still as much of a human being as an American so why can’t they live with the same comfort in their home? Too often the architects are biased toward the true identity of the neighborhoods they’re designing for. I experienced firsthand the disproportionate housing situation while living in a low-income neighborhood in NY and saw how insignificant my voice was where I lived. The built environment plays a critical role in shaping societal outcomes, yet the disparity in access to sustainable, energy-efficient solutions between economically developed and less developed regions remains stark. My research is motivated by the pressing need to address this gap, particularly in Sub-Saharan Africa, where resource constraints, rapid urbanization, and climate challenges collide. Growing up in Burkina Faso, I witnessed firsthand the struggles of communities grappling with overcrowded living spaces, inadequate infrastructure, and the lack of climate-resilient designs. These observations sparked my desire to merge architectural design with innovative building technologies to create structures that are not only functional but also adaptive to environmental and cultural contexts. Currently, my undergraduate thesis explores strategies for reducing HVAC energy consumption in orphanages in Burkina Faso through passive ventilation and efficient cooling materials. This work is guided by a larger question: how can we use context-specific design strategies to create sustainable, low-cost buildings in regions with limited access to modern technologies? My research incorporates vernacular building techniques, passive design principles, and the analysis of locally available materials, informed by an understanding of Burkina Faso’s climate and cultural heritage. This exploration has solidified my interest in sustainable building technologies and how they can empower communities in under-resourced regions to build environments that are self-reliant, energy-efficient, and climate-adaptive. Professionally, my experiences have further deepened my commitment to this cause. As an intern under Ricardo Augustine, I gained valuable insights into building technology through projects such as NYCHA’s facade renovations and roof renewals. One of the most transformative aspects of this role was conducting on-site inspections, where I saw how material science, design precision, and construction practices intersect to create durable and efficient buildings. These moments were empowering, as they bridged my academic knowledge with hands-on problem-solving. In addition, one of our projects with New York City’s aging housing stock exposed me to the role advanced tools like BIM and lifecycle assessments play in creating more sustainable urban infrastructure. These experiences motivated me to explore how emerging technologies can be applied to low-cost construction in less economically developed regions, ensuring accessibility without compromising innovation.

This drawing is titled Colored Sentence, it speaks on two real-life cases contrasting two unrelated individuals as it sheds light on systemic racism in the justice system.

Wealth inequality in Africa dramatically impacts the housing situation and health of its residents. Growing up in Burkina Faso, I witnessed firsthand the value of class; while I lived with air conditioning in the world's second hottest country my best friend next door did not even have a paved concrete floor, let alone electricity for a fan. Whenever I hear horror stories from family members trying to build new homes, I’m teased with the idea that I will do it for them next time, but it's something that I hold dearly to my heart. My decision to pursue a joint master's in construction engineering/management and architecture plays a significant role in how I want to give back to my continent. The American footprint for a single-person residence is 9 times the African space requirement. An African person is still as much of a human being as an American so why can’t they live with the same comfort in their home? Too often the builders are biased toward the true needs of the neighborhoods they’re designing for. In addition, the construction industry in most African countries is often a gamble, many projects are abandoned due to corruption or bad budgeting. I seek to be a part of the lifespan of many projects from their community design phase to the completion of a sound stable structure. The built environment plays a critical role in shaping societal outcomes, yet the disparity in access to sustainable, energy-efficient solutions between economically developed and less developed regions remains stark. My research is motivated by the pressing need to address this gap, particularly in Sub-Saharan Africa, where resource constraints, rapid urbanization, and climate challenges collide. After witnessing the struggles of communities grappling with overcrowded living spaces, inadequate infrastructure, and the lack of climate-resilient designs. These observations sparked my desire to merge architectural design with efficient construction techniques to create structures that are not only functional but also adaptive to environmental and cultural contexts. Currently, my undergraduate thesis explores strategies for reducing HVAC energy consumption in orphanages in Burkina Faso through passive ventilation and efficient cooling materials. This work is guided by a larger question: how can we use context-specific design strategies to create sustainable, low-cost buildings in regions with limited access to modern technologies? My research incorporates vernacular building techniques, passive design principles, and the analysis of locally available materials, informed by an understanding of Burkina Faso’s climate and cultural heritage. This exploration has solidified my interest in sustainable building technologies and how they can empower communities in under-resourced regions to build environments that are self-reliant, energy-efficient, and climate-adaptive. In the long term, I aspire to lead interdisciplinary projects that bring together architects, engineers, construction managers, and local stakeholders to reimagine construction practices in less economically developed countries. By integrating advanced tools such as virtual design, building performance simulation, and robotics with culturally informed design, I envision creating built environments that are resilient, resource-efficient, and community-centered. My work will strive to ensure that sustainable architecture and building technologies are not limited to well-resourced regions but are accessible to all, fostering opportunities for growth, equity, and environmental stewardship worldwide.

My mother came to the United States in 2007 in pursuit of her American dream; I joined her in 2013 when I was 8 years old. I recall the moment I descended from the escalator at JFK: I was gripping the flight attendant's arm with one hand, and holding a small suitcase containing all the memories of my life in Burkina Faso in the other. As I looked across the airport, I saw a dark-skinned woman staring at me from a distance. She wore a violet floral dress and a big smile. I only had one memory of the woman, but I knew that she must have been my mother. I was now in a new country with a new language, dependent on a woman I hardly knew. Two weeks after my flight landed, I started primary school with just one month left in the semester. I was surprised; I was under the impression this visit was just a reunion over summer vacation. My mother could not afford a babysitter while she was at work, so me spending that month in school was essential to us keeping a roof over our heads. I tried to be understanding: I walked home from school alone, warmed up the leftovers in the fridge, and patiently awaited her arrival. Sometimes she would come home later than usual, and my mind would spiral thinking about the endless possibilities if she never came back. Although my primary concern was her safety, I felt guilty asking myself what would happen to me—I had nobody. One year after arriving in the United States, I found out my father and stepmother had passed away in Burkina Faso. Their deaths marked the start of my adulthood. As much as I love my mom, I knew I would always be second to her job, so I had to build the confidence to parent myself. My loneliness motivated me to work hard on what I was passionate about…art. 2020 was my political awakening, I started relating my artwork to my desire for justice and equity in this world, now that I look back it's probably because I felt disregarded and wanted to be a voice for the neglected. I spent months in quarantine alone in an apartment working on a 15-piece portfolio on systemic racism. My mom worked both day a night shifts for 3 months so my art became my comfort through the nights. I made a piece called “They Killed My Son” a few months after the George Floyd murder which my high school art teacher submitted for an art competition. Then I stood in a gallery room in the MET museum admiring my name on the wall but my mom was nowhere to be found. I felt lonely in my victory, I felt lonely when she picked up a last-minute shift on Thanksgiving, I felt lonely when I would sacrifice my needs to just be her roommate instead of her daughter then hear her say “You don’t know how much I suffered”. I'm grateful that my mom worked to keep a roof over our head, however I she decided to go back to school the same year I graduated from high school. I knew not to expect anything financially from her for college the moment I decided to go out of state instead of going to a community college near by. I git my first job at 14 and been working part time since then to cover my tuition while going to school. This thaught me to be self sufficient, harwrking and driven but envie my peers with family.

I was 8 years old when I stepped on American soil for the first time. Finally, in the land of the free, the glorified civilization that I stalked through my TV day and night. Yet I missed the smell of the dirt after it rained. I missed the fraternity in my neighborhood and my best friend who lived next door. The American dream never overshadowed my West African roots. It enticed me to tie my identity to my dream, the opportunities I’m being given are ones that I wish upon my childhood friends. My decision to major in architecture plays a part in how I want to give back to my continent. The wealth inequality in Africa dramatically impacts the housing situation and health of its residents. When I lived with air conditioning my best friend next door did not even have a paved concrete floor. The American footprint for a single-person residence is 9 times the African space requirement. An African person is still as much of a human being as an American so why can’t they live with the same comfort in their home? Too often the architects are biased toward the true identity of the neighborhoods they’re designing for. I experienced firsthand the disproportionate housing situation while living in a low-income neighborhood in NY and saw how insignificant my voice was where I lived. The built environment plays a critical role in shaping societal outcomes, yet the disparity in access to sustainable, energy-efficient solutions between economically developed and less developed regions remains stark. My research is motivated by the pressing need to address this gap, particularly in Sub-Saharan Africa, where resource constraints, rapid urbanization, and climate challenges collide. Growing up in Burkina Faso, I witnessed firsthand the struggles of communities grappling with overcrowded living spaces, inadequate infrastructure, and the lack of climate-resilient designs. These observations sparked my desire to merge architectural design with innovative building technologies to create structures that are not only functional but also adaptive to environmental and cultural contexts. Currently, my undergraduate thesis explores strategies for reducing HVAC energy consumption in orphanages in Burkina Faso through passive ventilation and efficient cooling materials. This work is guided by a larger question: how can we use context-specific design strategies to create sustainable, low-cost buildings in regions with limited access to modern technologies? My research incorporates vernacular building techniques, passive design principles, and the analysis of locally available materials, informed by an understanding of Burkina Faso’s climate and cultural heritage. This exploration has solidified my interest in sustainable building technologies and how they can empower communities in under-resourced regions to build environments that are self-reliant, energy-efficient, and climate-adaptive. Professionally, my experiences have further deepened my commitment to this cause. As an intern under Ricardo Augustine, I gained valuable insights into building technology through projects such as NYCHA’s facade renovations and roof renewals. One of the most transformative aspects of this role was conducting on-site inspections, where I saw how material science, design precision, and construction practices intersect to create durable and efficient buildings. These moments were empowering, as they bridged my academic knowledge with hands-on problem-solving. In addition, one of our projects with New York City’s aging housing stock exposed me to the role advanced tools like BIM and lifecycle assessments play in creating more sustainable urban infrastructure. These experiences motivated me to explore how emerging technologies can be applied to low-cost construction in less economically developed regions, ensuring accessibility without compromising innovation.

I was eight when I first stepped onto American soil, a place I had admired through my TV screen. Yet, I longed for the smell of rain-soaked earth and the camaraderie of my West African neighborhood. The American Dream never replaced my roots—it motivated me to merge my identity with my ambition. The opportunities I have today are the ones I wish for the childhood friends I left behind. Growing up in Burkina Faso and later moving to the Bronx, I lived at the crossroads of cultural richness and systemic challenges. In Burkina, I witnessed communities struggle with inadequate infrastructure, limited housing, and a scarcity of opportunities. The literacy rate is below 40%, even lower for women forced into work and caregiving. Many young people seek student visas because a bachelor's degree at home offers little economic mobility. As much as I love my country, I know earning a master’s abroad is essential to driving meaningful change—and to standing on a construction site without being dismissed for my gender. Moving to the Bronx brought new challenges. In an under-resourced district, guidance counselors steered us toward community college, assuming we wouldn’t perform well on the SAT. These systemic barriers broadened my understanding of inequity on both local and global scales. Attending Fordham High School for the Arts transformed me, as I used creative projects to explore social justice, sparking my passion for advocacy. The disparities I experienced in Burkina Faso and the Bronx fueled my determination to succeed. At 14, I began working to support myself. I graduated high school at 16 when my mom decided she wanted to go back to school at the same time for a career change. Hence I was financially independent, I took heavy course loads, worked multiple jobs, and applied for numerous scholarships to facilitate my goal of graduating college debt-free. These experiences instilled resilience, resourcefulness, and a deep belief in the power of education. I learned that I had to be brave if I wanted to confront debt. I also learned that the US has a lot of opportunities and a lot of people who don't want immigrants to have them From my childhood in Burkina Faso to my formative years in the Bronx, my journey has shaped my global perspective and commitment to social impact through architecture and construction. A graduate degree is my next step in equipping myself with the expertise to integrate emerging technologies with sustainable, community-driven design. For me, this is more than a career milestone—it’s a lifelong mission to create equitable, sustainable opportunities for communities like those that shaped me. Currently, my undergraduate thesis explores strategies for reducing HVAC energy consumption in orphanages in Burkina Faso through passive ventilation and efficient cooling materials. This work is guided by a larger question: how can we use context-specific design strategies to create sustainable, low-cost buildings in regions with limited access to modern technologies? My research incorporates vernacular building techniques, passive design principles, and the analysis of locally available materials, informed by an understanding of Burkina Faso’s climate and cultural heritage. This exploration has solidified my interest in sustainable building technologies and how they can empower communities in under-resourced regions to build environments that are self-reliant, energy-efficient, and climate-adaptive.

I was 8 years old when I stepped on American soil for the first time. Finally, in the land of the free, the glorified civilization that I stalked through my TV day and night. Yet I missed the smell of the dirt after it rained. I missed the fraternity in my neighborhood and my best friend who lived next door. The American dream never overshadowed my West African roots. It enticed me to tie my identity to my dream, the opportunities I’m being given are ones that I wish upon my childhood friends. My decision to major in architecture plays a part in how I want to give back to my continent. The wealth inequality in Africa dramatically impacts the housing situation and health of its residents. When I lived with air conditioning my best friend next door did not even have a paved concrete floor. The American footprint for a single-person residence is 9 times the African space requirement. An African person is still as much of a human being as an American so why can’t they live with the same comfort in their home? Too often the architects are biased toward the true identity of the neighborhoods they’re designing for. I experienced firsthand the disproportionate housing situation while living in a low-income neighborhood in NY and saw how insignificant my voice was where I lived. The built environment plays a critical role in shaping societal outcomes, yet the disparity in access to sustainable, energy-efficient solutions between economically developed and less developed regions remains stark. My research is motivated by the pressing need to address this gap, particularly in Sub-Saharan Africa, where resource constraints, rapid urbanization, and climate challenges collide. Growing up in Burkina Faso, I witnessed firsthand the struggles of communities grappling with overcrowded living spaces, inadequate infrastructure, and the lack of climate-resilient designs. These observations sparked my desire to merge architectural design with innovative building technologies to create structures that are not only functional but also adaptive to environmental and cultural contexts. Currently, my undergraduate thesis explores strategies for reducing HVAC energy consumption in orphanages in Burkina Faso through passive ventilation and efficient cooling materials. This work is guided by a larger question: how can we use context-specific design strategies to create sustainable, low-cost buildings in regions with limited access to modern technologies? My research incorporates vernacular building techniques, passive design principles, and the analysis of locally available materials, informed by an understanding of Burkina Faso’s climate and cultural heritage. This exploration has solidified my interest in sustainable building technologies and how they can empower communities in under-resourced regions to build environments that are self-reliant, energy-efficient, and climate-adaptive. Professionally, my experiences have further deepened my commitment to this cause. As an intern under Ricardo Augustine, I gained valuable insights into building technology through projects such as NYCHA’s facade renovations and roof renewals. One of the most transformative aspects of this role was conducting on-site inspections, where I saw how material science, design precision, and construction practices intersect to create durable and efficient buildings. These moments were empowering, as they bridged my academic knowledge with hands-on problem-solving. In addition, one of our projects with New York City’s aging housing stock exposed me to the role advanced tools like BIM and lifecycle assessments play in creating more sustainable urban infrastructure. These experiences motivated me to explore how emerging technologies can be applied to low-cost construction in less economically developed regions, ensuring accessibility without compromising innovation.

I was 8 years old when I stepped on American soil for the first time. Finally, in the land of the free, the glorified civilization that I stalked through my TV day and night. Yet I missed the smell of the dirt after it rained. I missed the fraternity in my neighborhood and my best friend who lived next door. The American dream never overshadowed my West African roots. It enticed me to tie my identity to my dream, the opportunities I’m being given are ones that I wish upon my childhood friends. My decision to major in architecture at UVA plays a part in how I want to give back to my continent. The wealth inequality in Africa dramatically impacts the housing situation and health of its residents. When I lived with air conditioning my best friend next door did not even have a paved concrete floor. The American footprint for a single-person residence is 9 times the African space requirement. An African person is still as much of a human being as an American so why can’t they live with the same comfort in their home? Too often the architects are biased toward the true identity of the neighborhoods they’re designing for. I experienced firsthand the disproportionate housing situation while living in a low-income neighborhood in NY and saw how insignificant my voice was where I lived. The built environment plays a critical role in shaping societal outcomes, yet the disparity in access to sustainable, energy-efficient solutions between economically developed and less developed regions remains stark. My research is motivated by the pressing need to address this gap, particularly in Sub-Saharan Africa, where resource constraints, rapid urbanization, and climate challenges collide. Growing up in Burkina Faso, I witnessed firsthand the struggles of communities grappling with overcrowded living spaces, inadequate infrastructure, and the lack of climate-resilient designs. These observations sparked my desire to merge architectural design with innovative building technologies to create structures that are not only functional but also adaptive to environmental and cultural contexts. Currently, my undergraduate thesis explores strategies for reducing HVAC energy consumption in orphanages in Burkina Faso through passive ventilation and efficient cooling materials. This work is guided by a larger question: how can we use context-specific design strategies to create sustainable, low-cost buildings in regions with limited access to modern technologies? My research incorporates vernacular building techniques, passive design principles, and the analysis of locally available materials, informed by an understanding of Burkina Faso’s climate and cultural heritage. This exploration has solidified my interest in sustainable building technologies and how they can empower communities in under-resourced regions to build environments that are self-reliant, energy-efficient, and climate-adaptive. Professionally, my experiences have further deepened my commitment to this cause. As an intern under Ricardo Augustine, I gained valuable insights into building technology through projects such as NYCHA’s facade renovations and roof renewals. One of the most transformative aspects of this role was conducting on-site inspections, where I saw how material science, design precision, and construction practices intersect to create durable and efficient buildings. During the school year my two part time jobs have improved my leadership skills, especially in a hectic work environment. Working in the school's mailroom and being a manager at East2Seats has made me realize the importance of time management and setting aside personal financial goals on top of academic goals.

The Mothers I read a news story about the mothers of black sons and black daughters killed by police violence, how they gather and meet, a network of 400 mothers, now son-less, now daughter-less, how they call each other, save each other’s names alongside the names of their children, how they talk and cry and sing and laugh and exchange photos and stories to remember, to resurrect – I wonder if the mothers of the police who killed them also meet once a month, call, or cry or talk about what their sons or daughters could have done differently – do these mothers also meet and talk about the loss our black mothers bear? do they know that they rest their hands on their wombs for days, sometimes for months, do these mothers also plan weekends and holidays talking about what their own sons have done? I wonder if they also get together on Sunday afternoons to drink lemonade, or sweet tea, to talk and cry and think and remember what life was like before any bullets left the gun. Do they know that some mothers dream of their children’s faces, and these faces stuck in memory never age? do these mothers of police officers also gather and meet? do they also have a network of mothers whose sons and daughters have taken the lives of other people’s children? Again, I wake up to news stories about the mothers of black sons and daughters killed by police violence how they gather and meet, another day or night interrupted, sweet air mixed with tears, how they cup each other’s chins and faces, and pull in another woman as her shoulders shake, to mourn her child. Still, still. Arao Ameny My senior year of high school I watched the news more than Netflix. I woke up and turn on CNN, I ate lunch with ABC News guest commentators and slept with FOX debates in the background. I felt helpless looking at pictures of teenagers my age getting shot. The names kept on increasing, not names but bodies, lives ended too soon and mothers in the background of those news channels walling as loud as the police sirens. Those cries carried so many emotions, anger, sorrow, pain, and broken futures. Many received this news with a phone call, others witnessed the moment the soul of their child left their body, and I wondered about their recovery. Then I found this poem by Arao Ameny which left me pondering and I proceeded to paint without direction and ended up capturing the moment a black women would see her son on the scene of their death.

I was 8 years old when I stepped on American soil for the first time. Finally, in the land of the free, the glorified civilization that I stalked through my TV day and night. Yet I missed the smell of the dirt after it rained. I missed the fraternity in my neighborhood and my best friend who lived next door. The American dream never overshadowed my West African roots. It enticed me to tie my identity to my dream, the opportunities I’m being given are ones that I wish upon my childhood friends. My decision to major in a STEM like architecture plays a part in how I want to give back to my continent. The wealth inequality in Africa dramatically impacts the housing situation and health of its residents. When I lived with air conditioning my best friend next door did not even have a paved concrete floor. The American footprint for a single-person residence is 9 times the African space requirement. An African person is still as much of a human being as an American so why can’t they live with the same comfort in their home? Too often the architects are biased toward the true identity of the neighborhoods they’re designing for. I experienced firsthand the disproportionate housing situation while living in a low-income neighborhood in NY and saw how insignificant my voice was where I lived. The built environment plays a critical role in shaping societal outcomes, yet the disparity in access to sustainable, energy-efficient solutions between economically developed and less developed regions remains stark. My research is motivated by the pressing need to address this gap, particularly in Sub-Saharan Africa, where resource constraints, rapid urbanization, and climate challenges collide. Growing up in Burkina Faso, I witnessed firsthand the struggles of communities grappling with overcrowded living spaces, inadequate infrastructure, and the lack of climate-resilient designs. These observations sparked my desire to merge architectural design with innovative building technologies to create structures that are not only functional but also adaptive to environmental and cultural contexts. I hope to have an impact in the STEM field as a person of color by expanding representation. Representation is not just numbers, its knowledge and awareness that will produce equitable change in overlooked neighborhoods. Only 2% of licensed architects in the united states are black, as an African women I am a decimal, coming from a country with a literacy rate below 40%. I want to show my sisters and anties that they don't have to live in inadequate infrastructure, they can be the part of the revolution by removing the negative conetation behind urban renewal with their everyday knowledge of the communities at risk.

I was 8 years old when I stepped on American soil for the first time. Finally, in the land of the free, the glorified civilization that I stalked through my TV day and night. Yet I missed the smell of the dirt after it rained. I missed the fraternity in my neighborhood and my best friend who lived next door. The American dream never overshadowed my West African roots. It enticed me to tie my identity to my dream, the opportunities I’m being given are ones that I wish upon my childhood friends. My decision to major in architecture and urban planning plays a part in how I want to give back to my continent. The wealth inequality in Africa dramatically impacts the housing situation and health of its residents. When I lived with air conditioning my best friend next door did not even have a paved concrete floor. In High School, I started using my interest in visual arts to create pieces that bring awareness to inequality. The American footprint for a single-person residence is 9 times the African space requirement. An African person is still as much of a human being as an American so why can’t they live with the same comfort in their home? Too often the urban planners are biased toward the true identity of the neighborhoods they’re designing for. I experienced firsthand the disproportionate housing situation while living in a low-income neighborhood in NY and saw how insignificant my voice was where I lived. The built environment plays a critical role in shaping societal outcomes, yet the disparity in access to sustainable, energy-efficient solutions between economically developed and less developed regions remains stark. My research is motivated by the pressing need to address this gap, particularly in Sub-Saharan Africa, where resource constraints, rapid urbanization, and climate challenges collide. Growing up in Burkina Faso, I witnessed firsthand the struggles of communities grappling with overcrowded living spaces, inadequate infrastructure, and the lack of climate-resilient designs. These observations sparked my desire to merge architectural design with innovative building technologies to create structures that are not only functional but also adaptive to environmental and cultural contexts. Currently, my undergraduate thesis explores strategies for reducing HVAC energy consumption in orphanages in Burkina Faso through passive ventilation and efficient cooling materials. This work is guided by a larger question: how can we use context-specific design strategies to create sustainable, low-cost buildings in regions with limited access to modern technologies? My research incorporates vernacular building techniques, passive design principles, and the analysis of locally available materials, informed by an understanding of Burkina Faso’s climate and cultural heritage. This exploration has solidified my interest in sustainable building technologies and how they can empower communities in under-resourced regions to build environments that are self-reliant, energy-efficient, and climate-adaptive. Professionally, my experiences have further deepened my commitment to this cause.While interning under RCladding Consulting and Engineering, I gained valuable insights into building technology through projects such as NYCHA’s facade renovations and roof renewals. One of the most transformative aspects of this role was conducting on-site inspections, where I saw how material science, design precision, and construction practices intersect to create durable and efficient buildings. These moments were empowering, as they bridged my academic knowledge with hands-on problem-solving. In addition, one of our projects with New York City’s aging housing stock exposed me to the role advanced tools like BIM and lifecycle assessments play in creating more sustainable urban infrastructure. These experiences motivated me to explore how emerging technologies can be applied to low-cost construction in less economically developed regions, ensuring accessibility without compromising innovation.

My mother’s strength despite our tax bracket had a significant impact on my life as it drove me to give my best academically to repay her one day. When she decided to return to school at her old age I knew that if she had that courage then I could realize the American dream we both came to the united states for. I was finally in the land of the free, the glorified civilization that I stalked through my TV day and night. Yet I missed the fraternity in my neighborhood and my best friend who lived next door. The American dream never overshadowed my West African roots. It enticed me to tie my identity to my dream, the opportunities I’m being given are ones that I wish upon my childhood friends. My decision to major in architecture plays a part in how I want to give back to my continent. The wealth inequality in Africa dramatically impacts the housing situation and health of its residents. The American footprint for a single-person residence is 9 times the African space requirement. An African person is still as much of a human being as an American so why can’t they live with the same comfort in their home? The purpose of my work is to use architectural design and construction administration to facilitate building projects aimed at improving human living conditions in less economically developed countries. It does this by approaching materiality with intention, using community assembly practices, and promoting designs that support overall human health so that each project provides long-term health benefits to its community. My current thesis aims to provide efficient housing with passive cooling for orphalages in Burkina Faso that is compatible with the hot weather. I hope to devote my life to non-profit humanitarian construction after graduation.

A 17-hour transfer plane ride tends to be intense when you're the only 8-year-old black girl in a plane with no familiar faces. It was my first time seeing so many white people in one place, I didn't pay mind to the stares but I assumed seeing me was also a chock for them. The flight attended and I had to communicate through charades until I spotted a black woman waving at me in the arrival terminal. The woman was my mother but my childhood memory of her was so vague that I would've believed anyone who claimed her identity. I initially thought that my stay was purely for vacation until I was enrolled in school two weeks later. The teacher introduced me as the class exclaimed “Bonjour Fatima”, here the kids were wild and the teachers weren't scary. I was thrilled that they didn’t beat kids in school yet I missed running in the dirt during recess back home. School ended a month after, then a sense of excitement came over me when fifth grade started. Despite my language barrier, I understood the majority of the work because it was material I was forced to instill in my mind much earlier in Africa. Though the curriculum wasn’t challenging to me, I noticed that many viewed my language barrier as incompetence. The teachers would send me to the computer section with the other two kids who didn’t speak English when I genuinely wanted to learn. I wasn’t obligated to do normal schoolwork but I always made sure to complete my homework like the others. Whenever it was time to switch common core books to grade each other’s work, no one gave me their book. Did they think that I was too stupid to check the right answer and put an x on the wrong one or did the fact that I was surprisingly getting more questions correct than them send the opposite message? The rage I felt from being underestimated made me thrive for more. By the time I reached 7th grade, I spoke English fluently and climbed my way into the honor roll each marking period. However, the real fuel to my persistence came my father’s death that prior year. Then followed my stepmom, and the only direct family that remained back home was my now orphaned halfsister. I felt like I had a point to prove, prove that I wasn't going to be a failure, prove that I was taking advantage of being fortunate enough to make it to America, and prove that I was going to live up my family’s last name. These thoughts may seem unusual for a 12-year-old, but they were fundamental to every step I took to this day. I had to overlook being the only kid in the class without jordans, overlook the kid’s perception of being “cool” but I was still a child so I got sucked in the bandwagon sometimes. By junior year I had exceeded the expectations of a standard straight-A student. I was an original school club member, a track star, an accredited theater stage designer, and a tutor. Being a tutor made me look back at my starting days in America. I loved teaching instead of being thought. Being the person who served as an example of the potential that can arise from being underestimated. Even though I wasn’t holding a letter of acceptance to a top college yet, as I looked across the classroom full of students bracketed on me, I knew that my father would’ve been proud of the legacy I was uplifting.

I was 8 years old when I stepped on American soil for the first time. Finally, in the land of the free, the glorified civilization that I stalked through my TV day and night. Yet I missed the smell of the dirt after it rained. I missed the fraternity in my neighborhood and my best friend who lived next door. The American dream never overshadowed my West African roots. It enticed me to tie my identity to my dream, the opportunities I’m being given are ones that I wish upon my childhood friends. My decision to major in architecture plays a part in how I want to give back to my continent. The wealth inequality in Africa dramatically impacts the housing situation and health of its residents. When I lived with air conditioning my best friend next door did not even have a paved concrete floor. The American footprint for a single-person residence is 9 times the African space requirement. An African person is still as much of a human being as an American so why can’t they live with the same comfort in their home? Too often the architects are biased toward the true identity of the neighborhoods they’re designing for. I experienced firsthand the disproportionate housing situation while living in a low-income neighborhood in NY and saw how insignificant my voice was where I lived. The built environment plays a critical role in shaping societal outcomes, yet the disparity in access to sustainable, energy-efficient solutions between economically developed and less developed regions remains stark. My research is motivated by the pressing need to address this gap, particularly in Sub-Saharan Africa, where resource constraints, rapid urbanization, and climate challenges collide. Growing up in Burkina Faso, I witnessed firsthand the struggles of communities grappling with overcrowded living spaces, inadequate infrastructure, and the lack of climate-resilient designs. These observations sparked my desire to merge architectural design with innovative building technologies to create structures that are not only functional but also adaptive to environmental and cultural contexts. Currently, my undergraduate thesis explores strategies for reducing HVAC energy consumption in orphanages in Burkina Faso through passive ventilation and efficient cooling materials. This work is guided by a larger question: how can we use context-specific design strategies to create sustainable, low-cost buildings in regions with limited access to modern technologies? My research incorporates vernacular building techniques, passive design principles, and the analysis of locally available materials, informed by an understanding of Burkina Faso’s climate and cultural heritage. This exploration has solidified my interest in sustainable building technologies and how they can empower communities in under-resourced regions to build environments that are self-reliant, energy-efficient, and climate-adaptive. Professionally, my experiences have further deepened my commitment to this cause. As an intern under RCLADDING Consulting and engineering I gained valuable insights into building technology through projects such as NYCHA’s facade renovations and roof renewals. One of the most transformative aspects of this role was conducting on-site inspections, where I saw how material science, design precision, and construction practices intersect to create durable and efficient buildings. These moments were empowering, as they bridged my academic knowledge with hands-on problem-solving. In addition, one of our projects with New York City’s aging housing stock exposed me to the role advanced tools like BIM and lifecycle assessments play in creating more sustainable urban infrastructure. Receiving the Dr. Soronnadi Nnaji Legacy Scholarship would allow me to drop one of my part time jobs in order to focus more on school. STEM requires a lot of concentration and more research when the result are suppose to be sustainable both technically and socially.

I was 8 years old when I stepped on American soil for the first time. Finally, in the land of the free, the glorified civilization that I stalked through my TV day and night. Yet I missed the smell of the dirt after it rained. I missed the fraternity in my neighborhood and my best friend who lived next door. The American dream never overshadowed my West African roots. It enticed me to tie my identity to my dream, the opportunities I’m being given are ones that I wish upon my childhood friends. My decision to major in architecture plays a part in how I want to give back to my continent. The wealth inequality in Africa dramatically impacts the housing situation and health of its residents. When I lived with air conditioning my best friend next door did not even have a paved concrete floor. The American footprint for a single-person residence is 9 times the African space requirement. An African person is still as much of a human being as an American so why can’t they live with the same comfort in their home? Too often the architects are biased toward the true identity of the neighborhoods they’re designing for. I experienced firsthand the disproportionate housing situation while living in a low-income neighborhood in NY and saw how insignificant my voice was where I lived. My new life in the Bronx was not like TV, it was challenging balancing the reality of being low-income in the US while remaining grateful for the opportunity to be here. Being grateful to be cramped in a studio with roaches and mice but thanking God for plumbing. The built environment plays a critical role in shaping societal outcomes, yet the disparity in access to sustainable, energy-efficient solutions between economically developed and less developed regions remains stark. My research is motivated by the pressing need to address this gap, particularly in Sub-Saharan Africa, where resource constraints, rapid urbanization, and climate challenges collide. Growing up in Burkina Faso, I witnessed firsthand the struggles of communities grappling with overcrowded living spaces, inadequate infrastructure, and the lack of climate-resilient designs. These observations sparked my desire to merge architectural design with innovative building technologies to create structures that are not only functional but also adaptive to environmental and cultural contexts. Currently, my undergraduate thesis explores strategies for reducing HVAC energy consumption in orphanages in Burkina Faso through passive ventilation and efficient cooling materials. This work is guided by a larger question: how can we use context-specific design strategies to create sustainable, low-cost buildings in regions with limited access to modern technologies? My research incorporates vernacular building techniques, passive design principles, and the analysis of locally available materials, informed by an understanding of Burkina Faso’s climate and cultural heritage. This exploration has solidified my interest in sustainable building technologies and how they can empower communities in under-resourced regions to build environments that are self-reliant, energy-efficient, and climate-adaptive. Professionally, my experiences have further deepened my commitment to this cause. I gained valuable insights into building technology through internship projects such as NYCHA’s facade renovations and roof renewals. One of the most transformative aspects of this role was conducting on-site inspections, where I saw how material science, design precision, and construction practices intersect to create durable and efficient buildings. One of our projects with New York City’s aging housing stock exposed me to the role advanced tools like BIM and lifecycle assessments play in creating more sustainable urban infrastructure. These experiences motivated me to explore how emerging technologies can be applied to low-cost construction, ensuring accessibility without compromising innovation.

I was 8 years old when I stepped on American soil for the first time. Finally, in the land of the free, the glorified civilization that I stalked through my TV day and night. Yet I missed the smell of the dirt after it rained. I missed the fraternity in my neighborhood and my best friend who lived next door. The American dream never overshadowed my West African roots. It enticed me to tie my identity to my dream, the opportunities I’m being given are ones that I wish upon my childhood friends. My decision to major in architecture plays a part in how I want to give back to my continent. The wealth inequality in Africa dramatically impacts the housing situation and health of its residents. When I lived with air conditioning my best friend next door did not even have a paved concrete floor. The American footprint for a single-person residence is 9 times the African space requirement. An African person is still as much of a human being as an American so why can’t they live with the same comfort in their home? Too often the architects are biased toward the true identity of the neighborhoods they’re designing for. I experienced firsthand the disproportionate housing situation while living in a low-income neighborhood in NY and saw how insignificant my voice was where I lived. The built environment plays a critical role in shaping societal outcomes, yet the disparity in access to sustainable, energy-efficient solutions between economically developed and less developed regions remains stark. My research is motivated by the pressing need to address this gap, particularly in Sub-Saharan Africa, where resource constraints, rapid urbanization, and climate challenges collide. Growing up in Burkina Faso, I witnessed firsthand the struggles of communities grappling with overcrowded living spaces, inadequate infrastructure, and the lack of climate-resilient designs. These observations sparked my desire to merge architectural design with innovative building technologies to create structures that are not only functional but also adaptive to environmental and cultural contexts. Currently, my undergraduate thesis explores strategies for reducing HVAC energy consumption in orphanages in Burkina Faso through passive ventilation and efficient cooling materials. This work is guided by a larger question: how can we use context-specific design strategies to create sustainable, low-cost buildings in regions with limited access to modern technologies? My research incorporates vernacular building techniques, passive design principles, and the analysis of locally available materials, informed by an understanding of Burkina Faso’s climate and cultural heritage. This exploration has solidified my interest in sustainable building technologies and how they can empower communities in under-resourced regions to build environments that are self-reliant, energy-efficient, and climate-adaptive. Professionally, my experiences have further deepened my commitment to this cause. As an intern under Ricardo Augustine, I gained valuable insights into building technology through projects such as NYCHA’s facade renovations and roof renewals. One of the most transformative aspects of this role was conducting on-site inspections, where I saw how material science, design precision, and construction practices intersect to create durable and efficient buildings. These moments were empowering, as they bridged my academic knowledge with hands-on problem-solving. In addition, one of our projects with New York City’s aging housing stock exposed me to the role advanced tools like BIM and lifecycle assessments play in creating more sustainable urban infrastructure. These experiences motivated me to explore how emerging technologies can be applied to low-cost construction in less economically developed regions, ensuring accessibility without compromising innovation.

I was 8 years old when I stepped on American soil for the first time. Finally, in the land of the free, the glorified civilization that I stalked through my TV day and night. Yet I missed the smell of the dirt after it rained. I missed the fraternity in my neighborhood and my best friend who lived next door. The American dream never overshadowed my West African roots. It enticed me to tie my identity to my dream, the opportunities I’m being given are ones that I wish upon my childhood friends. My decision to major in architecture plays a part in how I want to give back to my continent. The wealth inequality in Africa dramatically impacts the housing situation and health of its residents. When I lived with air conditioning my best friend next door did not even have a paved concrete floor. The American footprint for a single-person residence is 9 times the African space requirement. An African person is still as much of a human being as an American so why can’t they live with the same comfort in their home? Too often the architects are biased toward the true identity of the neighborhoods they’re designing for. I experienced firsthand the disproportionate housing situation while living in a low-income neighborhood in NY and saw how insignificant my voice was where I lived. The built environment plays a critical role in shaping societal outcomes, yet the disparity in access to sustainable, energy-efficient solutions between economically developed and less developed regions remains stark. My research is motivated by the pressing need to address this gap, particularly in Sub-Saharan Africa, where resource constraints, rapid urbanization, and climate challenges collide. Growing up in Burkina Faso, I witnessed firsthand the struggles of communities grappling with overcrowded living spaces, inadequate infrastructure, and the lack of climate-resilient designs. These observations sparked my desire to merge architectural design with innovative building technologies to create structures that are not only functional but also adaptive to environmental and cultural contexts. Currently, my undergraduate thesis explores strategies for reducing HVAC energy consumption in orphanages in Burkina Faso through passive ventilation and efficient cooling materials. This work is guided by a larger question: how can we use context-specific design strategies to create sustainable, low-cost buildings in regions with limited access to modern technologies? My research incorporates vernacular building techniques, passive design principles, and the analysis of locally available materials, informed by an understanding of Burkina Faso’s climate and cultural heritage. This exploration has solidified my interest in sustainable building technologies and how they can empower communities in under-resourced regions to build environments that are self-reliant, energy-efficient, and climate-adaptive. Professionally, my experiences have further deepened my commitment to this cause. As an intern under Ricardo Augustine, I gained valuable insights into building technology through projects such as NYCHA’s facade renovations and roof renewals. One of the most transformative aspects of this role was conducting on-site inspections, where I saw how material science, design precision, and construction practices intersect to create durable and efficient buildings. These moments were empowering, as they bridged my academic knowledge with hands-on problem-solving. In addition, one of our projects with New York City’s aging housing stock exposed me to the role advanced tools like BIM and lifecycle assessments play in creating more sustainable urban infrastructure. These experiences motivated me to explore how emerging technologies can be applied to low-cost construction in less economically developed regions, ensuring accessibility without compromising innovation.

I was 8 years old when I stepped on American soil for the first time. Finally, in the land of the free, the glorified civilization that I stalked through my TV day and night. Yet I missed the smell of the dirt after it rained. I missed the fraternity in my neighborhood and my best friend who lived next door. The American dream never overshadowed my West African roots. It enticed me to tie my identity to my dream, the opportunities I’m being given are ones that I wish upon my childhood friends. My decision to major in architecture plays a part in how I want to give back to my continent. The wealth inequality in Africa dramatically impacts the housing situation and health of its residents. When I lived with air conditioning my best friend next door did not even have a paved concrete floor. The American footprint for a single-person residence is 9 times the African space requirement. An African person is still as much of a human being as an American so why can’t they live with the same comfort in their home? Too often the architects are biased toward the true identity of the neighborhoods they’re designing for. I experienced firsthand the disproportionate housing situation while living in a low-income neighborhood in NY and saw how insignificant my voice was where I lived. The built environment plays a critical role in shaping societal outcomes, yet the disparity in access to sustainable, energy-efficient solutions between economically developed and less developed regions remains stark. My research is motivated by the pressing need to address this gap, particularly in Sub-Saharan Africa, where resource constraints, rapid urbanization, and climate challenges collide. Growing up in Burkina Faso, I witnessed firsthand the struggles of communities grappling with overcrowded living spaces, inadequate infrastructure, and the lack of climate-resilient designs. These observations sparked my desire to merge architectural design with innovative building technologies to create structures that are not only functional but also adaptive to environmental and cultural contexts. Currently, my undergraduate thesis explores strategies for reducing HVAC energy consumption in orphanages in Burkina Faso through passive ventilation and efficient cooling materials. This work is guided by a larger question: how can we use context-specific design strategies to create sustainable, low-cost buildings in regions with limited access to modern technologies? My research incorporates vernacular building techniques, passive design principles, and the analysis of locally available materials, informed by an understanding of Burkina Faso’s climate and cultural heritage. This exploration has solidified my interest in sustainable building technologies and how they can empower communities in under-resourced regions to build environments that are self-reliant, energy-efficient, and climate-adaptive. Professionally, my experiences have further deepened my commitment to this cause. As an intern under Ricardo Augustine, I gained valuable insights into building technology through projects such as NYCHA’s facade renovations and roof renewals. One of the most transformative aspects of this role was conducting on-site inspections, where I saw how material science, design precision, and construction practices intersect to create durable and efficient buildings. These moments were empowering, as they bridged my academic knowledge with hands-on problem-solving. In addition, one of our projects with New York City’s aging housing stock exposed me to the role advanced tools like BIM and lifecycle assessments play in creating more sustainable urban infrastructure. These experiences motivated me to explore how emerging technologies can be applied to low-cost construction in less economically developed regions, ensuring accessibility without compromising innovation.

My mother came to the United States in 2007 in pursuit of her American dream; I joined her in 2013 when I was 8 years old. I recall the moment I descended from the escalator at JFK: I was gripping the flight attendant's arm with one hand, and holding a small suitcase containing all the memories of my life in Burkina Faso in the other. As I looked across the airport, I saw a dark-skinned woman staring at me from a distance. She wore a violet floral dress and a big smile. I only had one memory of the woman, but I knew that she must have been my mother. I was now in a new country with a new language, dependent on a woman I hardly knew. Two weeks after my flight landed, I started primary school with just one month left in the semester. I was surprised; I was under the impression this visit was just a reunion over summer vacation. My mother could not afford a babysitter while she was at work, so me spending that month in school was essential to us keeping a roof over our heads. I tried to be understanding: I walked home from school alone, warmed up the leftovers in the fridge, and patiently awaited her arrival. Sometimes she would come home later than usual, and my mind would spiral thinking about the endless possibilities if she never came back. Although my primary concern was her safety, I felt guilty asking myself what would happen to me—I had nobody. One year after arriving in the United States, I found out my father and stepmother had passed away in Burkina Faso. Their deaths marked the start of my adulthood. As much as I love my mom, I knew I would always be second to her job, so I had to build the confidence to parent myself. My loneliness motivated me to work hard on what I was passionate about…art. 2020 was my political awakening, I started relating my artwork to my desire for justice and equity in this world, now that I look back it's probably because I felt disregarded and wanted to be a voice for the neglected. I spent months in quarantine alone in an apartment working on a 15-piece portfolio on systemic racism. My mom worked both day a night shifts for 3 months so my art became my comfort through the nights. I made a piece called “They Killed My Son” a few months after the George Floyd murder which my high school art teacher submitted for an art competition. Then I stood in a gallery room in the MET museum admiring my name on the wall but my mom was nowhere to be found. I felt lonely in my victory, I felt lonely when she picked up a last-minute shift on Thanksgiving, I felt lonely when I would sacrifice my needs to just be her roommate instead of her daughter then hear her say “why is your A- not an A+” or "why is the food not ready" My mother inspired me to not be like her, that means giving my life to prioritising other people's well being. I transitioned from art to architecture for more tangible change, The purpose of my work is to use architectural design and construction administration to facilitate building projects aimed at improving human living conditions in less economically developed countries. It does this by approaching materiality with intention, using community assembly practices, and promoting designs that support overall human health so that each project provides long-term health benefits to its community.

I was 8 years old when I stepped on American soil for the first time. Finally, in the land of the free, the glorified civilization that I stalked through my TV day and night. Yet I missed the smell of the dirt after it rained. I missed the fraternity in my neighborhood and my best friend who lived next door. The American dream never overshadowed my West African roots, It enticed me to tie my identity to my dream to succeed. The educational opportunities I’m being given are ones that I wish upon all the childhood friends that I left home. Growing up in Burkina Faso and later moving to the Bronx, NY, I have lived at the intersection of cultural richness and systemic challenges, both of which have profoundly influenced my personal and professional aspirations. In Burkina Faso, I witnessed firsthand the struggles of communities grappling with inadequate infrastructure, limited access to quality housing, and a scarcity of opportunities for upward mobility. The literacy rate in my country is below 40%, lower among women who are forced from an early age to work and take care of their families. Many youths flee the country for a student visa because a bachelor's degree at home is insignificant with a low employment rate. As much as I love my country I know that I must earn a Masters abroad to have the knowledge to implement impactful change. A master's abroad is also my only chance to stand on a construction field among men and not be belittled for my gender. My visits back home to Burkina after leaving have instilled in me a deep sense of responsibility and a determination to find solutions that could address these inequities. Relocating to the Bronx brought new challenges and opportunities. Growing up in an under-resourced neighborhood my guidance counselors pushed the idea of community college upon us due to low expectations. They even stated we were not expected to perform well on the SAT based on our district. I navigated systemic barriers that shaped my understanding of inequity on a district and global scale. These experiences were pivotal in my development and motivation to excel academically and professionally. Attending Fordham High School for the Arts was a transformative period in my life, as it was where I began exploring social justice through the arts. Through various creative projects, I used art as a medium to highlight and confront social inequities, sparking a passion for advocacy that continues to influence my work today. The disparities I experienced and observed, both in Burkina Faso and the Bronx, emphasized to me that the need for sustainable and equitable development transcends borders. These lessons motivated me to work hard academically and financially. At the age of 14, I started working to support myself, I graduated at 16 and took on heavy course loads in college while I worked multiple jobs. I also applied for numerous scholarships to fund my education to graduate debt-free. This persistence taught me resilience, resourcefulness, and a deep appreciation for the transformative power of education and opportunity. My life experiences, from my upbringing in Burkina Faso to my formative years at Fordham High School for the Arts in the Bronx, have shaped my global perspective and commitment to social impact. I would advise the people in Burkina Faso and the people in the Bronx that when you don't have the resources you must use passion and drive to get to places you deserve.