Being a first-generation college student has profoundly shaped both how I approach learning and my career goals. Without family experience to guide me through higher education, I had to navigate courses, research opportunities, and academic expectations independently. This required perseverance, self-advocacy, and resourcefulness—skills that I now recognize as essential to the practice of medicine. I learned to seek mentors, ask questions, and translate setbacks into growth, building confidence in my ability to overcome challenges on my own. These experiences strengthened my commitment to becoming a physician who can advocate for patients and families navigating unfamiliar or intimidating healthcare systems. In college, I pursued neuroscience to combine my curiosity about the brain with a desire to make a meaningful impact. In my third year at Penn State University, I joined the PCAT research lab, studying cognitive affect and temperament in children, with a focus on anxiety transmission. Observing how subtle behavioral and neurological adjustments between parent and child improved communication and confidence reaffirmed my desire to enter pediatric neurology. Later, as a Student Teacher at the Learning Station, I learned to interpret children’s emotions through behavior—helping them navigate conflict, frustration, and fear. These experiences showed me that caring for children requires both science and empathy. Children often communicate through actions rather than words, and understanding them means listening beyond language. Being the first in my family to pursue higher education has heightened my awareness of the barriers that families face—financial, social, and cultural—and has strengthened my determination to support children and their caregivers with patience, understanding, and advocacy. Ultimately, being a first-generation student influences my career goals by shaping how I approach medicine: with curiosity, persistence, and a commitment to bridging gaps for those who lack guidance or resources. I hope to use my knowledge, compassion, and experience to empower children and families navigating neurological challenges, ensuring they have the support, understanding, and opportunity to thrive. My journey through higher education has shown me the power of resilience and mentorship, and I aim to bring that same guidance and care to every patient I serve.

When I was sixteen, I volunteered as an assistant art teacher at the Hudgens Art Center of Atlanta and met a little boy named Daniel, who had been diagnosed with autism. Days with him were unpredictable—one moment he was laughing over his clay hut, and the next he was throwing paintbrushes and hitting himself in frustration. When I saw the tears of anger and confusion in Daniel’s eyes, I wanted nothing more than to help him release the tension he couldn’t put into words. That moment of empathy sparked a deep curiosity within me about the human mind, especially the developing mind of a child. What struck me most was not Daniel’s condition, but his resilience. Watching him grow through something he did not fully understand inspired me to dedicate my life to exploring how young brains work, heal, and thrive. I am someone driven by compassion and the belief that every child deserves the chance to flourish. Behind every diagnosis is a young person with dreams, fears, and potential. That understanding guides everything I do. As a neurological psychology student preparing for a future career in medicine, I want to bridge the gap between research and empathy so that children and their families feel supported not just clinically, but emotionally. My goal is to create spaces in healthcare where science and humanity work together to restore hope. In my third year at Penn State University, I began assisting in the PCAT research lab, where we studied cognitive affect and temperament in children, focusing on the transmission of anxiety. Observing how small adjustments in parent–child interaction improved emotional regulation and communication reaffirmed my desire to pursue pediatric neurology. I saw how changes grounded in neuroscience could meaningfully transform a child’s confidence and quality of life. I continued developing my understanding of children’s emotional worlds as a Student Teacher at the Learning Station. There, I learned to interpret children’s needs through behavior—recognizing when frustration masked fear, when silence meant insecurity, and when conflict was really a call for comfort. These experiences taught me that working with young people requires listening beyond language and responding with patience, creativity, and warmth. Through research, teaching, and hands-on experience, I have developed a passion for translating unspoken communication into healing. That is the impact I hope to make. As a future pediatric physician, I want to advocate for children whose voices are still growing, for families navigating the fear and uncertainty of neurological disorders, and for communities where access to compassionate, informed care is limited. Ultimately, I hope to make a positive difference in the world by combining science with heart—using medical knowledge, empathy, and curiosity to help children feel understood, supported, and capable of thriving.

Some of my earliest memories take place inside my family’s Liberian restaurant—a narrow storefront that became our home by night and our church on Sunday mornings. It was where I learned to cook beside my mother, where my siblings played between tables after closing, and where my father greeted every customer with the same warmth he brought to the pulpit. Long before I understood the word hospitality, I watched it unfold every day: creating a space where people felt welcomed, cared for, and seen. That small restaurant shaped who I am and ultimately inspired my desire to become a medical doctor. The journey to get there, however, began long before the restaurant opened. Before my parents saved enough to buy the storefront, my family lived out of our six-seat SUV. My parents worked overnight delivering newspapers just to cover the car note and insurance, while my siblings and I shared two comforters—one to sleep on and one to cover ourselves. When we finally moved into the restaurant space, it became more than a business; it was our shelter, our livelihood, and our place of worship. In that space, I learned responsibility by caring for my siblings, preparing meals, and serving customers whenever my parents stepped away. I watched my parents greet every visitor with kindness, even when exhausted, and pack meals for customers who could not afford to pay. Through those small acts, I learned that hospitality is not just a skill—it is compassion in practice. And I learned that when resources are limited, compassion becomes even more valuable. These experiences shaped how I view service and helped me understand the kind of doctor I want to be. Medicine, like hospitality, means meeting people where they are, responding to their needs, and offering comfort even when you have little to give. Those early lessons now guide my desire to care for children and adolescents, who deserve patience, understanding, and genuine warmth. Growing up with financial barriers meant many academic opportunities were out of reach, but those challenges pushed me to work harder. I took advanced courses early, stayed committed to my education despite instability, and sought every opportunity to serve others. Over the years, I have volunteered in food distribution for people experiencing homelessness and mentored younger students—continuing the spirit of generosity I learned from my parents. When I was sixteen, that commitment deepened. I volunteered as an assistant art teacher and met a young boy named Daniel, who had autism. Days with him were unpredictable—one moment he was laughing over his clay hut, and the next he was overwhelmed with frustration. Seeing the tears in his eyes sparked a desire to help him process emotions he could not yet articulate. What struck me most was his resilience. Watching him navigate a world that did not always understand him ignited my curiosity about the developing brain and inspired my dedication to pediatric medicine. My interest grew as I pursued neuroscience in college. In the PCAT research lab, I studied temperament and anxiety transmission in children, observing how small behavioral adjustments between parent and child strengthened communication and emotional regulation. Later, as a Student Teacher at the Learning Station, I learned to interpret children’s emotions through behavior—helping them navigate conflict, frustration, and fear. Working with young patients requires both science and hospitality—listening beyond words and creating a space where they feel safe and understood. My hardships taught me empathy and attentiveness, shaping the kind of physician who believes every child deserves the chance to flourish.

When I was sixteen, I volunteered as an assistant art teacher at the Hudgen’s Art Center of Atlanta and I met a little boy named Daniel who had been diagnosed with autism. Days with him were unpredictable — one moment he was laughing over his hut of clay, and the next, he would be throwing paintbrushes and hitting himself because he was disappointed with his work. When I saw the tears of dissatisfaction and anger in Daniel’s eyes, I simply wanted to help him release the tension he was feeling. It was this simple idea of a temper tantrum in a child that made me want to understand the human mind, specifically a child’s mind. Yet what struck me most wasn’t his condition, but his resilience. Watching him fight and live through something he didn’t fully understand inspired me to dedicate my life to understanding how young brains work, heal, and grow. That experience sparked my passion for neurological psychology and medicine, with a focus on pediatric care. Like Kayla Nicole Monk, who faced congenital heart challenges with courage and joy, I am driven by compassion and the belief that every child deserves the chance to thrive. Her story reminds me that behind every diagnosis is a person — often a child — whose dreams matter just as much as their treatment. As a neurological psychology student pursuing medicine, I want to bridge the gap between research and empathy to help children and families navigate the challenges of neurological disorders with hope and understanding. I began assisting in the PCAT research lab at Penn State University studying cognitive affect and temperament in children with a focus on anxiety transmission in my 3rd year. Watching how small behavioral and neurological adjustments between the parent and child could improve their communication and confidence reaffirmed my desire to enter pediatric neurology and help children reach their full potential. I believe that working with young patients requires both science and heart. Children often can’t fully express what they’re feeling, so listening to their behavior becomes a form of translation. I have had the privilege of practicing this and understanding children in the midst of their distress while working as a Student Teacher at the Learning Station. Here, I would often meet kids at their lowest, whether it was when they fell off the indoor slide or if a friend of theirs was not sharing a toy. Growing that skill of facilitating small yet heated situations amongst children also made me grow a deep and focused desire to do this for the rest of my life. This scholarship would bring me one step closer to that dream. The pursuit of medical school is a strong financial challenge, and balancing my current tuition with volunteer work and lab research has not been easy. The Kayla Nicole Monk Memorial Scholarship would relieve some of that burden and allow me to focus on expanding my experience with pediatric patients and community outreach. Kayla’s story deeply resonates with me because she embodied the same resilience I see in the children, like Daniel, who inspire me every day. Despite her heart condition, she lived with purpose, laughter, and compassion — qualities I hope to bring into every examination room and every patient relationship.

I believe that our truth is defined as the manipulated expectations we, humans, have made for ourselves on Earth outside of God's wisdom. For the past decade the idea of "my truth" has been growing in the hearts of many people. However, I simply believe that the truth is the truth. It is what has happened, what is happening, and what will happen all in full complete context without any personal bias or point of view. I believe that God's truth is pure and accurate as He is the one in the beginning and will be the one at the end. John 1:1 quotes, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." In the first verse, the Bible states that "in the beginning was the Word", this can be taken literally as when God began creating the world, He spoke a word, or command, to shine light on the face of the Earth. Genesis 1:3 states, "And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light." That was the first word God spoke to create the Earth we are able to see and know today. Since humans are able to understand the concept of light and darkness, day and night, and morning and evening, there is a certain truth we can able to capture with our eyes that was created by God. In the second part of John 1:1, it states, "the Word was with God". This statement implies that there is another subject other than God who was by His side from the very beginning. Christians know this second subject to be Jesus Christ who identifies as the Word of God and the truth. John 14:6 states, "Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." This implies that Jesus is closer to God, or the Father, than anyone on Earth because to get to God, you must go through Jesus Christ. This leads to the final part of John 1:1, "the Word was God." Because Jesus Christ stood as a passage way for God's people to connect to God, He must have a sense of validity that connects Him to God, thus He is God as a pathway to God. Although there are deep connections between God and His word all throughout the Bible, many people do not see this truth as the best truth or even a truth. Is there a more accurate truth? If we believe that there is a more accurate truth from God then why is there a great change in those who encounter God? Through Jesus Christ many people are not just saved, but transformed. They are able to bear the fruits of the spirit which implies that Jesus was telling the truth about the Holy Spirit. John 14:26, "But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you." Those who are saved may go through tribulations yet will be able to wipe their tears and find joy. Revelation 21:4, "He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." How is this proven? Through testimonies of a multitude of believers. God's truth is pure and righteous, but most importantly it is genuine and in correct context, it is not falsifiable. That is why it is the truth.

The one show that I could watch over and over again and not get sick of is Demon Slayer. The way that Tanjiro, our main character, loves and takes care of his family, whether it's found family or biological family, is simply something that I can always get behind and admire. The only reason why I admire it so much is because I would do the same thing for my family. At the beginning of the story, Tanjiro seems to have it all. Then he comes home to his whole family dead and killed by demons while his younger sister is actively turning into one. He feels that all is lost, but he makes a vow to become a demon slayer and fight the good fight to help save humanity from atrocities like this. I know I felt this way when I lost my father in 2017. Leading up to his death was not easy either. Before my father passed he had lost our home and were living in our family restaurant with only a folding wall hiding us at night. We all shared one foldable mattress that acted as a couch in the daytime. So when we got the news that my father had lung cancer, it felt like nothing could change our trajectory of pain and suffering. As we continued to fight on, he slowly got better and we got news that the cancer was gone. My family was also able to move into a 3-bedroom apartment and it seemed like things were finally looking up. However, in the summer of 2017, the cancer came back and on August 15th he passed away. My father was a very studious man who cared deeply about education. He would allow me to help with his sermons and together we would binge inspirational documentaries about war and international affairs. It was about 2-3 weeks into school when this devastation hit my family, but I vowed that I would try my best to keep my father's wishes and protect my family in name and honor through education. I am so proud to say that in 2022, I graduated high school with a 3.8 GPA as an honor graduate and AP scholar because of this. Although the series is not complete yet, Tanjiro continues to change the definition of what a demon slayer is. A demon slayer is not just someone who can kill a demon. It is someone who can stand by their principles and beliefs no matter the situation or circumstance. It is someone who uses every breath and bone in their body to fight and protect the ones that they love, relentlessly. Now, I am going into my 3rd year of university at Penn State University, studying Neurological Psychology with a minor in Chemistry, and I will be the first member of my family to complete and obtain a college degree. Although my story is not complete yet as well, there is so much ahead of me and I know nothing can hold me back from raising my family name even if I have setbacks along the way. If you are seeking a show that is beautifully created through crisp art, timeless storytelling, and heart-wrenching emotion, Demon Slayer is the only anime you need to watch.

Can you imagine being called into the office of a multimillionaire high fashion magazine in the middle of glorious Manhattan, New York for a chance to at your dream job only to find your boss hitting it off with his previous assistant? And not in a PG-13 way. I could never but that's exactly the situation for Ugly Betty. This summer, I had the pleasure of binging Ugly Betty, starring America Ferrera, which featured Miss Betty Suarez as she faced many challenges on her road to becoming a magazine publisher. From the name-calling on day one to being blatantly ignored, Betty never gives up. Her 2006 story is inspiring and shines a light on many issues that are still present today. Betty faces microaggressions for her ethnicity, multiple abuses of power, and the effects of unrealistic beauty standards, I mean the show is called Ugly Betty. Yet, she doesn't let these aspects of her new life write her final story. Betty is a part of a very interesting community. She has a loving and caring family at home while at work she has a fashion target on her back with multiple people trying to bring her down. She lives with her dad, older sister, and nephew. When she was younger she lost her mom, but was still able to flourish with an amazing and supportive family. She also is not as tied to her heritage as much as she would like to be, because she was born in the U.S. and her family is from Mexico. When I got to this part of the show, I began to heavily empathize with Betty. I am also a first-generation student who is not fluent in her parents' language and is trying her best to navigate life with the loss of her father. When I relished Betty's work ethic and commitment, I decided that Ugly Betty was the show for me. However, Betty isn't perfect. She works very hard and has many fun adventures, but she is still a flawed person. I enjoy that the story does not force Betty to be amazing simply because she's "ugly" and that's the one flaw she has to deal with for the rest of her life. She gets chances to fall in love, and climb the ladder in her career, and is still able to make mistakes along the way. I think Betty is perfect for young to middle-aged girls specifically because of this fact. Betty Suarez is a normal person who tries to be as good as she can, but no one is perfect. Even if look "bad", you shouldn't let that be your vice. Be you! You're not a passion project, you are a person with passions. I think that's an amazing focal point of the story that Ugly Betty tells. Over four seasons, Ugly Betty touches on topics such as teen pregnancies, absent fatherhood, deportation, sex addiction, cults, affairs, and being a person in the LGBTQ+ community at a time when gay marriage was not even legal yet. If you are looking for an ageless, inspirational show about multiple underdogs rising, Ugly Betty is the show for you!

My family restaurant was my first job, home, and church in one. It was also where I learned how to drive, practiced customer service and gained public speaking skills. It was where I learned you can't just reach for your dreams, you have to run after them. One step at a time, every day. My family owned a Liberian restaurant in a mini plaza strip that was right across from a car wash and a roller rink. When my parents first bought the restaurant I was about 10 years old, and my three younger siblings were 8, 6, and 4 respectively. Just before then, we had been living out of our 6-seat SUV and my parents had been working for our daily post office, bagging newspapers and delivering them around 3:00 to 4:00 in the morning just to be able to pay for car insurance and the car note. We shared 2 comforters, one to sleep on and the other to lay underneath while my parents worked from 9:00 pm - 5:00 am every day. My father was also a pastor, so every Sunday we would visit a church and he would preach a sermon the best he could even when he didn't get more than 4-5 hours of sleep the night before. So when my parents saved enough to buy our storefront space, it was a blessing for all of us. Our storefront became where we would serve food in the day, sleep at night, and preach on Sunday mornings. As one would expect, owning and maintaining a restaurant is not easy. My parents had to learn how to market a business and build a steady customer base all from scratch while taking care of four young and rowdy children. Luckily, their work ethic and commitment rubbed off on me and I helped take care of my siblings while my parents worked. I also committed myself to learning as much as I could with the resources that were available to me. I would take high school courses over the summer while entering middle school and even used the building our restaurant was a part of to stay active. I would watch over my siblings and make dishes for customers whenever my parents went out and help them around the kitchen when they were helping others. I became self-efficient and learned to love to give to others even when it seemed like I had nothing. Because of this, I have acquired over 8 years of volunteer experience in giving food to my local community of those who were homeless and teaching students to help them pursue their passions. If I were to change the restaurant industry, I would incorporate strategic volunteer work into each business. Not only would it help the staff of the restaurant it would also incorporate servitude into the everyday lives of communities. Cultural barriers would be crossed respectfully and new cultures would arise while opening the doors to stronger communication, and trust throughout communities. Through my family business, I got my first taste of customer service and hard work, during and outside of school. It taught me how to stay focused even when things get hard and to never give up. No matter what trials and tribulations come my way, I can make it. With this scholarship, I aim to keep my commitment to these principles that my parents and this experience have given me and help other students find these principles as well.