I’ve always had a passion for science and how it can be used to improve lives, and that passion has only grown as I’ve advanced in my studies. My goal after graduation is to pursue internships in the biotechnology field that will allow me to build hands-on experience in lab work, research, and product development. I’m especially interested in working with companies that are developing life-saving treatments and technologies, such as vaccines, cancer therapies, or diagnostics. I believe that contributing to the development of innovative solutions in healthcare is one of the most impactful things I can do with my education. My first language is Spanish. I was born into a Spanish-speaking household, and growing up bilingual has shaped many aspects of who I am. Spanish isn’t just a language—it’s a connection to my roots, my culture, and my family. It allowed me to build strong relationships with my community, especially with my mother, who has worked incredibly hard to support our family. Being bilingual has helped me become a bridge between cultures, especially when I’ve had to help translate or support others who face language barriers. I take a lot of pride in being able to do that. However, being bilingual also came with its challenges. In school, I sometimes struggled with switching between languages, especially when I had to quickly translate thoughts in my head or write essays in English. There were moments when I felt self-conscious about my accent or unsure of how to fully express myself in English. It took time, practice, and confidence to fully embrace my voice in both languages. But now, I see it as one of my greatest strengths. In a professional setting, being bilingual gives me a broader lens. I can communicate with a more diverse group of people and bring a unique perspective to teams, especially in healthcare and biotechnology—fields that serve diverse communities. I hope to one day be part of a research team that not only innovates in science but also makes those innovations accessible and inclusive for all populations, including Spanish-speaking communities that are often underserved. Post-graduation, my main focus will be on gaining hands-on experience through internships. These opportunities will help me refine my technical skills, build professional connections, and understand how I can best contribute to the field of biotechnology. Ultimately, I hope to grow into a role where I can be involved in meaningful research that brings healing and hope to others. I’m proud of where I come from, the language I speak, and the journey I’ve taken so far. I know there’s still a long way to go, but I’m excited for what lies ahead—and I’m ready to continue learning, growing, and making a difference.

Struggling with anxiety has been one of the most difficult and eye-opening experiences of my life. It’s something people can’t see just by looking at me—but it’s something that lives with me every day. Anxiety has shaped the way I move through the world, the way I see myself, and the way I think about my future. There have been times when everyday tasks felt completely overwhelming. Something as small as getting out of bed and preparing for class felt like climbing a mountain. Going to the grocery store or walking into a classroom full of people could send my heart racing and my thoughts spiraling. I would rehearse every sentence I planned to say, fearful that I’d embarrass myself or be judged. It wasn’t just being shy—it was this constant pressure in my chest and noise in my mind that I couldn’t silence. It made even the most routine parts of life feel exhausting. Even so, my experience with anxiety has changed me in ways I didn’t expect. First, it’s made me more empathetic. Because I know what it’s like to struggle silently, I’ve become someone who pays closer attention to how others are feeling, even when they’re not saying much. I’ve come to understand how important it is to check in on people, to offer kindness without conditions, and to be patient—not just with others, but with myself. My mental health struggles also impacted my relationships. I used to keep everything inside, afraid that talking about my anxiety would make me a burden or that people wouldn’t understand. But over time, I’ve realized the importance of being open. I’ve learned to lean on people who truly support me, and to distance myself from those who made me feel ashamed for something I couldn’t control. It’s made me more intentional about who I trust and how I show up in relationships. Most of all, this journey has influenced my career aspirations. I’m currently pursuing a path in biotechnology and hope to become a research scientist. My passion for science was always rooted in a desire to help people, but living with anxiety has broadened my perspective. I now recognize how important mental health is in healthcare, and how often it’s left out of the conversation. I want to contribute to research that not only addresses physical illness, but also supports mental well-being—especially in underserved communities like mine, where mental health isn’t always talked about or prioritized. Mental health isn’t a weakness at all—it’s part of the human experience. Living with anxiety has made life harder, but it’s also made me more compassionate, more reflective, and more driven to make a difference. I still have hard days, but I no longer see them as setbacks. I see them as proof that I’m growing, healing, and becoming the person I was meant to be. I hope to one day create change that makes others feel less alone in their struggles—because no one should ever have to face mental health challenges in silence.

My immigrant experience is one of resilience, sacrifice, and hope—carried on the shoulders of my mother, who came to this country with nothing but a determination to give me and my brothers a better life. Watching her work tirelessly since the day she arrived, often in jobs that paid far less than what she deserved, taught me what real strength looks like. As a single mother, she has carried burdens most would never understand. Despite her exhaustion, she never gave up on us. And because of her, I refuse to give up on the future we both dreamed of. As immigrants, we were met with countless barriers—language, documentation, financial instability, and the constant anxiety that comes with being “other.” I’ve watched my mother be underpaid, overworked, and taken advantage of simply because of her status. There were days she came home in tears from jobs where her work was dismissed, where her voice didn’t matter. Yet, she still got up every morning to keep going. She never let us see how scared or tired she really was. That kind of sacrifice stays with you—it shapes who you are. Finding opportunities has never been easy. As an immigrant, doors are often closed before you even reach the front steps. Jobs, scholarships, internships—they all seem to require something that proves you're “official.” The path to citizenship feels like a maze with no clear end, filled with uncertainty, legal fees, and long waiting periods that make you question whether you’ll ever belong. It’s painful to know you’re capable, hardworking, and driven—but to constantly be told, in subtle and not-so-subtle ways, that it’s not enough. Still, I push forward. My career aspiration is to become a research scientist in the field of biotechnology. I want to work on vaccines and treatments that can change lives—especially for underserved communities like the one I come from. Science has always fascinated me, but it became personal during the pandemic, when I saw firsthand how crucial medical research is to saving lives. I realized that I didn’t just want to admire change—I wanted to be part of it. This journey hasn’t been easy, but it’s been rooted in faith, family, and the belief that something better is possible. My mother didn’t endure all of this for nothing—I want to make her proud, to give back, and to be someone who opens doors for others like us. Receiving support and recognition wouldn’t just help me—it would be a reminder that our story matters, and that despite the odds, immigrants like me have something meaningful to offer this country.

Ever since I can remember, I’ve been drawn to understanding what makes us vulnerable — not just emotionally, but biologically. I’ve watched people I love struggle with illnesses that seemed to rob them of their vitality, independence, and peace. One of the hardest parts wasn’t just watching them suffer, but knowing how limited the options were. I think that’s where this dream was born — the dream to be part of the solution, to contribute to research that not only understands disease but defeats it. What makes me worth the dreams I aspire to achieve is the depth of my conviction. I don’t see research as just a job in a lab — I see it as a lifeline. I want to be the kind of scientist who listens, who cares, who doesn’t lose sight of the human beings behind the data points. I believe that science and empathy don’t have to be separate. In fact, they fuel each other. My curiosity drives me to ask questions, but it’s my compassion that pushes me to find answers that matter. In a world full of rapidly evolving diseases and treatments, I want to be someone who moves with purpose, not just pace. I want to contribute to research that doesn’t just aim for what’s possible but insists on what’s necessary — treatments that are effective, accessible, and respectful of the people they’re meant to help. I want to help bring understanding to conditions that still feel like mysteries to so many. I want to be part of the effort that makes the word “incurable” a temporary state, not a final sentence. But beyond what I want to do, is who I want to be: a bridge between suffering and solution, between patient and progress. I’ve spent time building up not only my academic foundation but also my ability to connect, to communicate, and to collaborate. I’m worth this dream because I carry it with intention. I’m not looking for a spotlight. I’m looking for the moment when a breakthrough changes a life, and I know I played even a small part in it. I know this path isn’t easy — science rarely is. But I don’t measure my passion by ease. I measure it by how willing I am to stay curious, stay resilient, and stay grounded in why I started. My dream isn’t fueled by accolades. It’s fueled by the hope that one day, someone won’t have to suffer the way people I’ve loved have suffered — because we worked harder, dug deeper, and didn’t give up. That’s why I believe I’m worth this dream: because I carry it not just for myself, but for everyone waiting on a cure.

As a child, I had always thought that my perfect career path was the one for a doctor. I greatly admired my great uncle, who was once a physician. I would hear stories of how he would help out his community in Mexico, since not many could afford a doctor’s visit or medicine. I was very determined to become one, just like he was. Growing up in a lower middle class family made me realize how healthcare is vital in enhancing one’s quality of life. I saw this first-hand with my struggling mother who couldn’t afford medicine to treat her high blood pressure and worsening headaches. I wanted nothing but to take that suffering away from her. Once I was finishing high school, the pandemic occurred and that caused me to become very uncertain of my desired career. My aunt was left in a critical condition from how the virus greatly affected her lungs. This was because she refused to test for covid and hadn’t received the covid vaccine, causing her symptoms to worsen as more days passed. I took note of how crucial and life-saving the covid tests and vaccines were. If it hadn’t been for the covid tests and vaccines, many of my older family members would have also been in critical condition. It made me think about how necessary it is for biotechnology. Though it was a hard decision for me, I knew that I would be more efficient and create a larger impact in the lab setting, rather than treating patients as a physician. Upon completing my undergraduate degree, I took an advanced research in molecular and cell biology course. For this, I learned new techniques that were used in the lab such as the growth and monitoring of bacterial and yeast cultures and observed some other procedures such as protein optimization and purification. This made me grow accustomed and more at ease in the research lab setting as I grew familiar with these techniques and was able to understand them more thoroughly. When I found out that this was cancer research-related, I was both surprised and enthusiastic. To think that I could be doing the same thing in the future made me feel pensive and reflective of the potential outcomes and opportunities that come with research and development. It gave me a glimpse of what I think a scientist would experience and I thoroughly enjoyed it. In the near future, I aspire to be a research scientist, where I would be able to engage in original research and contribute to the development of vaccines and cancer treatment. This current graduate biotechnology program I am currently taking would aid me in refining my technical skills used in the lab as well as extend my knowledge in biological sciences. Furthermore, I would receive practice in areas I am lacking and further encourage me, providing me with what I would need to advance my professional career and make a difference in saving lives through research.

Graduating with a college degree isn’t just something I want to do—it’s something I feel deeply called to do. It’s a goal that’s been shaped not only by my academic interests, but by life experiences that have made me painfully aware of how much need still exists in the world of medicine. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been captivated by science—by how things work, and more importantly, how we can make them work better for people. But that curiosity sharpened into purpose when I watched someone I love battle cancer. It was then that I realized I didn’t just want to understand biology—I wanted to change it. I want to dedicate my life to improving the way we diagnose, treat, and hopefully one day cure cancer. Biotechnology, to me, represents the future of medicine—and the future of hope. We are living in an era where we can use a person’s own immune system to fight tumors, edit genes to correct mutations, and analyze molecular profiles to tailor treatments to the individual. That kind of progress is incredibly exciting, but it also reminds me how much more there is to do. I want to be on the front lines of that effort, working in oncology research and development to help create the next generation of therapies that are smarter, safer, and more effective. After earning my degree, my immediate goal is to work in a biotech lab focused on cancer therapeutics—particularly in areas like immunotherapy, gene therapy, and drug development. I want to help develop treatments that aren’t just about extending life by a few months, but about restoring quality of life, reducing side effects, and increasing accessibility for patients from all backgrounds. One day, I also hope to pursue graduate studies in biomedical science or biotechnology so I can further specialize and eventually take on a leadership role in clinical research or biotech innovation. This vision is bold—and it’s one that requires not just education, but opportunity. That’s why this scholarship would mean so much to me. It’s not just about financial support, though that’s a critical piece. It’s about being able to fully immerse myself in learning and discovery without being held back by constant financial worry. The cost of textbooks, lab supplies, research materials, and living expenses adds up quickly. And while I’m no stranger to hard work—I’ve taken on part-time jobs and side projects to help pay for school—there’s a limit to how much you can stretch yourself before something gives. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to dedicate more time and energy to deep learning—whether that’s through participating in undergraduate research, applying for internships with biotech companies, or even just being present enough in my classes to ask the big questions and seek out mentorship. I want to be the kind of student who doesn’t just get good grades, but who pushes boundaries, collaborates with peers, and explores the deeper "why" behind the science. That takes time, focus, and sometimes just a little breathing room—and this scholarship would help provide exactly that. Beyond academics, I also see this scholarship as a form of encouragement. Sometimes, especially when you're pursuing something big and complex like cancer research, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed or wonder if you're really cut out for it. But when someone invests in your potential, when they say, “I believe in your future,” that belief sticks with you. It pushes you through the tough days. It becomes part of your resilience. And it makes the goal feel just a little more possible. My passion for oncology isn’t just theoretical—it’s personal. I’ve lost people I love to cancer. I’ve sat in waiting rooms filled with families holding their breath, hoping for good news. I’ve watched how brutal chemotherapy can be, not just physically, but emotionally. Those experiences have stayed with me. They’re what drive me to want better options—not just someday, but now. I don’t want another patient to feel like they’re out of options, or another family to feel powerless. I want to be part of the solution. One area I’m particularly interested in is how biotechnology can make cancer treatment more precise and personalized. Right now, too many treatments are “one size fits all,” which means they don’t always work—and when they do, they can come with harsh side effects. But what if we could use genetic sequencing to create a therapy built specifically for that patient’s tumor? What if we could use AI and big data to predict which drugs a patient will respond to before they even start treatment? These are the kinds of questions I want to help answer. And with the right education and support, I know I can. In the long term, I don’t just want to work in research—I want to be an advocate. I want to use my platform and knowledge to help bridge the gap between science and the people it serves. Whether that’s by educating communities about clinical trials, working to improve health equity, or helping patients understand their treatment options, I want to make sure the breakthroughs we make in the lab actually reach the people who need them. Science doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It exists to serve humanity. And I never want to lose sight of that. My future plans are ambitious, but they’re grounded in a deep desire to make a real difference. I see myself as part of a generation of scientists and researchers who don’t just inherit the future of medicine—we build it. With the help of this scholarship, I’ll be one step closer to that reality. I’ll be able to keep moving forward, not just with financial support, but with a renewed sense of purpose and encouragement. In the end, I’m not chasing this dream for prestige or recognition. I’m chasing it for every patient waiting on a new treatment. For every family holding onto hope. For every person who hears the words “you have cancer” and needs to know that someone, somewhere, is working on something better. That someone is me.

Entering higher education as a first-generation immigrant has been both exciting and overwhelming. It often feels like stepping into an unfamiliar world, one where the rules and expectations aren’t always clear. My family has always emphasized the value of education, but figuring out how to navigate college—especially with financial struggles—has been a challenge I’ve had to face largely on my own. Growing up, I watched my mother struggle to afford basic necessities, including the medicine she needed for her high blood pressure. Seeing her sacrifice so much just to keep our family afloat made me realize early on that financial stability and access to healthcare aren’t things everyone can take for granted. That’s part of what first inspired me to pursue medicine—I wanted to help people like my mother, who couldn’t always afford the care they needed. However, as I grew older and the pandemic hit, my perspective shifted. I saw firsthand how biotechnology, not just frontline medicine, played a crucial role in saving lives. My aunt suffered severe complications from COVID-19, and it made me realize how vital diagnostic tests and vaccines are. That was the moment I began to reconsider my path. Transitioning from a dream of becoming a physician to wanting to work in biotechnology wasn’t easy. It felt like I was abandoning the career path I had always envisioned. But when I got the chance to take an advanced research course in molecular and cell biology, everything clicked. I learned techniques like growing and monitoring bacterial and yeast cultures, and I even observed procedures related to protein optimization. The moment I realized that the research I was involved in had applications in cancer treatment, I knew I had found where I truly belonged. Despite my passion for research, being a first-generation immigrant means facing obstacles that many of my peers don’t. There’s no safety net—no family members who can guide me through the complexities of higher education or provide financial support when tuition and lab fees pile up. I’ve had to learn how to balance school, work, and personal responsibilities while constantly worrying about money. Scholarships, financial aid, and part-time jobs have been my lifeline, but there are still moments when I wonder if the sacrifices will be worth it. Still, I push forward because I know that education is the key to breaking the cycle of financial struggle. My goal is to become a research scientist, working on vaccine development and cancer treatments that can save lives. The biotechnology program I’m currently in is helping me refine my technical skills and gain the experience I need to contribute meaningfully to the field. More importantly, it’s proving to me that despite the challenges, I belong in this space. Being an outsider to the system has made my journey harder, but it has also made me more determined. I’ve learned resilience, adaptability, and the importance of advocating for myself. No matter how difficult it gets, I remind myself why I started this journey—to make a difference, to help people like my mother, and to ensure that no one has to choose between their health and financial stability.