Most people move on. I don’t. If something feels off, I sit with it. I replay conversations in my head. I notice when someone says they’re fine but something about it doesn’t match. I catch the small details that don’t fully make sense, and I have a hard time ignoring them. For a long time, I thought that just meant I was overthinking everything, but I’ve realized I actually like figuring things out. That’s always been true. When I read mystery books growing up, I wasn’t reading for the ending. I cared more about the middle, where things didn’t quite add up yet. I didn’t just want to know what happened. I wanted to understand why it didn’t make sense in the first place. A lot of that comes from how I’ve experienced the world. Being mixed, I’ve never fully felt like I fit into one specific group. There were moments where I felt like I had to adjust depending on who I was around or where I was, and that wasn’t always easy. But it forced me to pay attention. I learned how to read a room, understand different perspectives, and pick up on things people don’t always say out loud. Over time, I stopped seeing that as something that made me different in a negative way and started realizing it gave me an awareness that a lot of people don’t have. My dad always kept things simple. He had three rules: ask questions, don’t be an ass, and work hard. It sounds basic, but that’s how I’ve learned to approach everything. If something doesn’t make sense, I ask. I treat people the right way. And I don’t expect anything without putting in the work. That mindset is what led me to forensic science. It’s not just something that sounds interesting to me. It actually fits how I think. It’s detail, logic, and truth. It’s not guessing or assuming. It’s figuring things out when it matters and being able to stand behind it. What people don’t expect is that I’m also an empath. I pick up on people easily, sometimes more than I want to. For a while, I didn’t know how that fit into anything I wanted to do, but now I understand that it matters. Behind every case is a real person and a real family waiting for answers. This isn’t just work to me. It’s responsibility. Going to college isn’t about “finding myself” or just getting a degree. It’s about taking the way I already think and building the discipline and knowledge to actually use it. I want to become a forensic pathologist, and I know that path is long. It’s years of school, not just four, and I’m okay with that. I’d rather take the time to do something that actually fits me than choose something easier that doesn’t. I’ve been doing my part to make that happen. I’ve applied for scholarships, I plan to work while I’m in school, and I’m trying to take responsibility for my education instead of expecting it to just work out. I know what this path requires. I don’t expect anything to be handed to me, but I do know what I bring. I pay attention. I ask questions. I work hard. I’ve spent my whole life noticing what others miss. Now I’m ready to be someone people can trust to get it right.

When I was little, I watched Doc McStuffins almost every day. I didn’t just see a cartoon. I saw a little girl who looked like me, who loved science, helped others, and wasn’t afraid to take charge. What stood out to me even more was how many women doctors the show featured. They were pediatricians, veterinarians, and specialists in fields I had never even heard of. At the time, I thought that was normal. I thought the world was full of women like them, helping and healing in every corner of science. It wasn’t until I got older that I realized how rare that kind of representation really was. As I went through school, I started to notice how few women, especially women of color, were pictured in textbooks or standing at the front of the classroom teaching science. I never saw many who looked like me in the labs, on the posters, or in the examples used to explain how things worked. It didn’t make me doubt myself, but it did make me think. Somewhere along the way, I realized that I didn’t just want to love science. I wanted to belong in it. That realization led me to forensic biology. To me, it is the perfect mix of curiosity, compassion, and purpose. I have always been drawn to understanding how things work, but even more to understanding people. Forensic biology allows me to do both. It connects science to stories, answers to healing, and evidence to truth. Most people think of it as solving crimes, but to me, it is also about bringing peace to families who have lost someone or spent years wondering what happened. It’s about using science to give closure, even when the outcome is hard. According to a 2025 Zippia study, only about 8.7 percent of forensic pathologists identify as Black or African American. Seeing that number reminded me of what Doc McStuffins showed me years ago. Representation matters. When young girls see someone who looks like them doing something they’ve never imagined, it opens a door that might have stayed closed. I want to be one of those people who holds the door open. I have learned that change doesn’t happen all at once. It starts small, with someone choosing to stay curious, to ask questions, and to keep showing up even when they are the only one who looks like they do. That is what I want to bring to my field: consistency, compassion, and the courage to belong. Being a Black woman in science means carrying more than just ambition. It means knowing that every step forward can make the path a little clearer for someone else. I plan to use my education in forensic biology to help families find answers and to mentor younger students who want to pursue STEM careers. I want to make science feel less intimidating and more human. I want it to feel like the world I saw as a little girl, where smart, capable women of color were doing extraordinary things every day. I may not have all the answers yet, but I know that every lab I walk into, every question I ask, and every test I run gets me closer to building that reality. I want to be one of the reasons the next generation believes they belong in science. The little girl who once watched Doc McStuffins believed she could do anything. I plan to keep proving her right.