By the end of my path at the University of Pittsburgh, I will graduate with a degree in biology, a minor in chemistry, and a Bachelor of Science in Nursing, a journey that has not been easy, but that reflects both my passion in science and commitment to patient care. I have structured my education deliberately because I do not want to choose between understanding disease and treating it; I intend to do both, and to do them well. As someone with Tourette’s syndrome, I have seen how neurological conditions are often misunderstood or oversimplified. I wanted to understand the underlying mechanisms behind what I was experiencing, and more importantly, why disorders involving the basal ganglia remain so complex to treat. This commitment is what drives my work in the laboratory, where I study the role of the basal ganglia in movement-related disorders such as Parkinson’s disease and Tourette’s syndrome using primate models. Each day in the lab presents new questions, and I'm fueled by the feeling of pursuing those questions with rigor and persistence. What began as curiosity has evolved into a disciplined approach to inquiry. Research has reinforced a principle that now defines how I approach my future: discovery and patient care should not exist in isolation. The most meaningful contributions to medicine come from those who are willing to engage in both. I am committed to serving patients who require immediate, high-quality care, while also contributing to the broader scientific understanding of complex neurological disorders. There are individuals, both now and in the future, who will face the same uncertainty that I have experienced living with a condition that is not yet fully understood. My goal is to be part of addressing that gap, through both clinical practice and continued research. After completing my degrees, I plan to work in critical care as a nurse before pursuing certification as a Certified Registered Nurse Anesthetist. I'm drawn to this career not only for its level of clinical responsibility, but for its reach. CRNAs are essential providers in rural and underserved communities, places where access to specialized care is often limited. Growing up in Montana, I saw the consequences of that reality. I intend to return to communities like those, where the need is not abstract, and where skilled providers can make immediate, life-changing differences. At the same time, I will continue my work in neurobiological research. I do not see research as a phase of my education, but as a lifelong commitment. I am driven by a sustained intellectual commitment to advancing the understanding of basal ganglia–related disorders and other neurological conditions, particularly given the significant gaps that still exist in their underlying mechanisms and treatment. I will not lose that drive to question, to investigate, and to contribute to solutions that improve both understanding and care. My goal is not simply to build a career, but to build a life of purpose, one that allows me to serve patients directly while also advancing the science that shapes their treatment. Whether in a rural hospital, an operating room, or a research setting, I want my work to be defined by impact: improving access, deepening understanding, and ultimately, changing lives.

Medicine has never felt abstract to me. It has been personal for as long as I can remember. Growing up with Tourette’s, I understood early what it means to live inside a body that does not always cooperate. I understood the vulnerability of sitting in exam rooms, the quiet calculations before social situations, and the relief when a healthcare professional listens. Medicine shaped my childhood in ways both difficult and formative. Now, I want to be the person on the other side of that experience, the one who steadies the room, who understands both the science and the human weight of it. I grew up in Montana, but I chose to leave because I wanted more. I wanted to be surrounded by diversity, of thought, culture, experience, and ambition. I began college at the University of California, Santa Barbara, where I first learned how expansive the world of higher education could be. Still, I wanted more intensity, more exposure to high-level research, and more proximity to academic medicine. That desire led me to transfer to the University of Pittsburgh, where I am now studying Biological Sciences while working toward my long-term goal of becoming a Certified Registered Nurse Anesthetist. My path toward anesthesia has been shaped by both lived experience and scientific curiosity. I work in a deep brain stimulation primate research lab focused on developing stimulation patterns for Parkinson’s disease and Tourette syndrome. Being part of research that directly relates to a condition I live with is meaningful. In the lab, I help analyze movement data and contribute to refining stimulation approaches that may improve neuromodulation therapies. Watching how precise electrical patterns can alter motor output has solidified my fascination with neurophysiology and controlled intervention. This has strengthened my passion for anesthesiology as well. CRNAs operate in moments where physiology must be managed with exactness, where airway, hemodynamics, and neurologic status can shift within seconds. The field demands calm decision-making under pressure and a deep understanding of pharmacology and systems-based thinking. I am drawn to that responsibility. I want to master the science so thoroughly that I can protect patients during their most vulnerable moments. Outside the lab, I work as an EMT, shadow in the OR at the rural hospital back home, and volunteer with Tourettes Association of America. Those shifts reinforced my desire to serve in high-acuity settings. In emergency care, you learn quickly how much trust patients place in you. You learn that technical skill must be paired with composure and empathy. I have also interned at a pediatric clinic, where I saw how early, attentive care can shape a child’s entire trajectory. Working with children reminded me of my own experiences navigating healthcare at a young age and strengthened my commitment to being a provider who sees the whole person, not just the diagnosis. Beyond clinical work, I volunteer as a youth track coach! Mentorship matters to me. I know what it feels like to search for confidence, for belonging, for someone who believes in your potential. Whether on a track field or in a hospital room, I want to be someone who creates stability and encouragement. I left home to pursue higher education because I wanted to be pushed. I wanted to immerse myself in diverse environments and demanding academic spaces. Medicine gives me purpose because it allows me to transform my own challenges into service. Tourette’s shaped my life; now I want to shape a life in medicine, one defined by skill, compassion, and the steady responsibility of caring for others.

I grew up in Montana, where a single hospital can serve communities spread across hundreds of miles. In those settings, healthcare is personal out of necessity, and providers often work with limited resources. I came to understand this reality more clearly while observing anesthesia care in a rural operating room. The responsibility placed on a small medical team—and the level of trust patients placed in them—left a lasting impression on me. That experience shaped my academic path and clarified my long-term goal: to pursue advanced clinical training so I can one day return home prepared to serve communities with limited access to specialized care. I am currently pursuing a degree in Biological Sciences with a minor in Business. My biology coursework has built a strong foundation in human physiology, neuroscience, and disease processes, while my business studies have helped me better understand leadership, systems management, and decision-making within healthcare organizations. Together, these disciplines have encouraged me to think beyond individual patient encounters and consider how care is delivered, supported, and sustained, particularly in rural and underserved settings. After completing my undergraduate degree, I plan to enroll in an Accelerated Bachelor of Science in Nursing (ABSN) program, which I intend to complete in one year. Following this, I will work as a registered nurse in a high-acuity intensive care unit for at least two years to meet the clinical experience requirements for Certified Registered Nurse Anesthetist (CRNA) programs. My goal is to become a CRNA, a role that requires advanced clinical judgment, technical precision, and independence. In many rural hospitals, CRNAs are essential to maintaining surgical and emergency services, making this career path especially aligned with my long-term objectives. Alongside my academic training, I'm involved in neuroscience research in a deep brain stimulation (DBS) primate laboratory. My work focuses on basal ganglia function and its role in movement disorders, including Tourette’s syndrome. This research is both academically and personally meaningful to me, and it has strengthened my commitment to evidence-based medicine. One of my academic goals is to contribute to a peer-reviewed publication examining the effects of basal ganglia modulation on Tourette’s by the end of my ABSN program. Through research, I have developed stronger analytical skills and a deeper appreciation for the connection between scientific inquiry and clinical practice. I am also committed to building a strong clinical foundation through hands-on service. I plan to continue expanding my direct patient care experience by working as an EMT, gaining meaningful clinical hours in emergency and prehospital settings. In the long term, I hope to serve in humanitarian medicine through organizations such as Doctors Without Borders, where medical professionals provide care in crisis and resource-limited environments. These goals reflect my belief that healthcare is not only a profession, but a responsibility to serve where the need is greatest. While I plan to gain experience in larger medical centers early in my career, my long-term objective is to return to Montana and similar rural regions. Specialized providers are often concentrated in urban areas, leaving smaller communities without consistent access to anesthesia care. By training in high-volume settings, I aim to develop the skills and confidence necessary to practice independently in rural hospitals, where providers are frequently required to take on broader roles. Ultimately, my academic and career goals are driven by purpose. I want to pursue rigorous education, contribute meaningfully to research, expand access to high-quality care, and serve communities that are too often overlooked—both at home and globally. For me, success is not defined solely by professional achievement, but by using that achievement to make a meaningful difference where it matters most.

From the early years of my childhood, I dreaded the annual “Going-to-the-Sun” Bike ride with my mom and close friends in Glacier National Park. The 35 miles, 3427 feet of elevation gain, and steep cliffs along the side, made the westward 7-hour ride grueling, not to mention scary. As elementary school girls, it was not something my sister, two close friends, and I thought we wanted to do. For me, it was particularly challenging because I have Tourette’s, a neurological disorder that causes involuntary physical and verbal tics, sometimes making it difficult to maintain balance and control. On the drive to Glacier Park, I anticipated the exhaustion. However, from the moment I clipped on my bear spray, straddled my bike and began peddling, the exertion, natural beauty and wildlife, distracted me from my tics. After five hours of riding, when I reached the top of the Going-To-The-Sun road, I sprawled out on the snow-covered ground, overwhelmed with relief. My mom and I celebrated with a picture and chocolate, marking a tradition that carried on for years. As I continued to bike the road each year, I encountered many new things: grizzly bears, 20-foot snowbanks, and surprisingly, joy. Each time I mounted my bike, a feeling of success and power overwhelmed me. I began to feel as though biking Going-to-the-Sun road was a mental and physical challenge I could control, and control was something I craved as my Tourette’s worsened. As I entered high school, I longed for a sense of control in other aspects of my life, as I tried to manage my physical and verbal tics, sometimes in the most noticeable situations, such as a quiet classroom during a test. I had good days followed by days of uncontrollable eye-rolling, joint popping, and other tics. I needed to learn how to overcome feelings of embarrassment, exhaustion, and pain as I battled frustration with tics interfering with school, sports, and my life. I could have chosen to give in, allowing my body to crumble under the pressure of my Tourette’s, but I did not crumble. I was determined that no matter how challenging life became, I would accomplish the goals I set my mind to, just as I accomplished the 35-mile bike ride every year. It became incredibly motivating to bike, battle my Tourette’s, and experience success. Though obstacles often presented themselves and I found myself spending energy masking my tics, I always found a way to work through the challenges school, sports, and family presented. Likewise, as obstacles arose on the annual bike ride, I found a way through. In 2022, the Park did not open the road to bikers from the west side (the direction everyone rides), due to a snow storm that left 10-foot snowdrifts into late June. By this point in my life, I craved the intensity of the humbling ride, and I wasn’t going to let snow stand in the way. We drove an extra 2 ½ hours to East Glacier and rode it backwards, from the east side to the top. I discovered through biking the road from a new direction that my perseverance did not change, and that my confidence in accomplishing goals I set my mind to didn't either. I still face moments of adversity and frustration with my Tourette’s. The truth is that living with Tourette’s is exhausting, but I do not use Tourette’s as an excuse to slow down or quit peddling. Today, I sit at the base of a new mountain, Going-to-the-Sun lessons in hand, ready to set aside my fear, clip on my metaphorical bear spray, and ride.

Applying for the Kalia D. Davis Memorial Scholarship, I reflect on my path to the University of California, Santa Barbara (UCSB) and my commitment to a future in medicine. As an out-of-state student entering my second year, I have embraced the challenges of rigorous academics, balancing my time between my studies and my passion for ultramarathon running. My journey is not without financial strain, and as I pursue every opportunity to offset these expenses, I also hold steadfast to my dedication to becoming a compassionate healthcare provider. My work ethic is deeply shaped by the discipline and resilience I have built through endurance sports. For years, I have been drawn to intense physical challenges, from long-distance trail races to ultramarathons, where both body and mind are tested. Running these races is not simply a hobby; it has taught me the value of persistence, focus, and commitment to a goal—even when the journey is painful or exhausting. Every mile I run is a testament to the mindset I bring to my studies and future career in medicine: I push through challenges and continuously strive for growth. Growing up with Tourette’s, I faced unique obstacles that demanded I develop a tenacious spirit. Everyday tasks, including schoolwork, sometimes presented physical challenges due to involuntary tics. Yet, through these experiences, I learned resilience, adaptability, and a capacity for overcoming discomfort, qualities that I now bring to all areas of my life. From my annual 31 mile race through Big Sky, Montana to my current studies in health science, I discovered that my drive to succeed was stronger than any limitation I might face. Rather than seeing Tourette’s as a setback, I see it as a reminder that I am capable of achieving great things, even when the odds feel stacked against me. My high school years in a specialized health science academy strengthened my resolve to pursue medicine. This rigorous program provided experiences that challenged me intellectually and emotionally, from handling human specimens in the cadaver lab to researching pressing health issues. I knew I was pursuing a field that requires both technical skill and profound compassion. Alongside these academic pursuits, volunteering with refugee children in my community further reinforced my desire to help others and to lead with empathy and inclusion. I have learned that medicine is not just about diagnoses and treatments; it is about understanding the humanity of each individual and being present for them in times of need. At UCSB, I have chosen a path that prioritizes my academic and professional goals over the social aspects of college life. By forgoing UCSB’s party culture, I ensure my time and energy are focused on what truly matters to me: excelling in my studies and maintaining the discipline I’ve cultivated through my running and volunteer work. This sense of purpose and dedication to my goals is what drives me daily, and I am determined to carry these qualities forward into my career as a medical professional. The Kalia D. Davis Memorial Scholarship represents an opportunity to alleviate some of the financial pressure I face as an out-of-state student and allow me to focus more fully on my education. With this support, I can continue to put my best effort into my studies and training, knowing that each step I take is bringing me closer to a future in medicine. I am inspired to carry Kalia’s legacy forward by dedicating myself to compassionate healthcare and to giving back to others, just as she would have done. Thank you for considering my application and for the chance to honor her memory through my work.

I've held the hands of cancer victims and survivors both within my family and of those I had only met minutes prior. The reason why I show up to my volunteer position in the oncology unit at Providence St. Pats Hospital is for those I've lost and those I'm scared to lose. I cared for my grandmother, who suffered from pancreatic cancer for four years. She lived with my family for the last two years of her life. I held her hand through unimaginable circumstances, and I held her hand up until the very last night she was with us. The night she passed, I was so incredibly sad, yet mostly angry. The way cancer affected my relationship with my view on life and faith was extremely damaged. Let me just explain that I have never been religious, yet I did everything I could (including praying) to try and save her life. Though I gave my heart and soul to the universe to try and save her, it didn't work. I needed time to heal, and as time went on, the devastation and anger grew to a new appreciation for life and those I love. The appreciation I felt towards doctors, nurses, and volunteers also grew, and I soon realized I wanted to help ease pain and try to save lives too. I'm 17 years old now and planning on pursuing an undergraduate degree in biology to work towards a position in oncology after medical school. My drive for success comes from the pain caused by my grandmother's death but also from my mother, who survived cancer. My mom was diagnosed with T-Cell Lymphoma non-Hodgkins and survived. She is not only the person I look up to but the person who has pushed me to become the person I am. She showed me that determination and bravery could lead to success in many forms (including working within oncology as a 17-year-old). Though she is healthy today, the fear of losing the person who holds me while I cry, smiles as I succeed, and reminds me that I matter is terrifying. The fear cancer causes me also creates determination to pursue a career in oncology. Sometimes, fear affects aspirations, relationships, and beliefs more than anger and sadness. So not only am I aspiring to be a medical provider to feel rewarded myself, I am doing it for the grief and fear within me. Cancer is not what motivates me; it's the effect of the emotions that come along with it. I strive to be an individual who can ease pain and provide hope for those struggling with cancer, just as the many people who helped my family did.