In first grade, I learned early what it meant to navigate the world with a visible disability. One morning on the school bus, I turned around to ask a boy to stop kicking my seat. When he saw my face, he screamed in terror, calling me a “monster” while his friend laughed. Shame and anger flooded me, followed by helplessness. I was born with a rare craniofacial disorder that caused my skull bones to fuse prematurely, leading to breathing difficulties, hearing loss, and facial differences. Moments like this shaped my early understanding of exclusion. Growing up with a craniofacial condition made social interaction challenging, but it also strengthened my resilience. Despite frequent medical appointments and physical limitations, I maintained a calm and optimistic disposition. At thirteen, I underwent a major surgery that improved my breathing and facial structure. This experience marked a turning point in my confidence. I pushed myself beyond my comfort zone, joining clubs and organizations, including a nonprofit that supports individuals with facial differences. Through advocacy and connection, I discovered the power of community and learned that shared experiences can foster empathy and belonging. Education has always been central to my sense of empowerment. My medical condition often required extended absences from school, including a particularly difficult period in seventh grade when I missed nearly two months due to complications. The uncertainty surrounding my health created anxiety, but I refused to let it define my academic potential. I worked tirelessly to catch up, completing extra credit assignments and studying independently. By the end of the year, I had maintained Honor Roll status. These experiences reinforced my belief that persistence and self-advocacy are essential tools for overcoming systemic and personal barriers. My involvement with a nonprofit for individuals with craniofacial differences profoundly influenced my academic and career aspirations. Supporting others who faced similar challenges gave me a sense of purpose and inspired my interest in biology and biotechnology. I became fascinated by how science could answer deeply personal questions about health, identity, and possibility. This passion ultimately led me toward bioinformatics, a field that integrates biology and data analysis to understand, predict, and treat medical conditions. I see science not only as discovery, but as a means of equity. As someone who has navigated life with a disability, I am deeply committed to supporting underserved communities. I understand how rare conditions are often overlooked, leaving families without resources or answers. Through my education, I hope to contribute to research that expands medical knowledge and improves diagnostic and treatment options for underrepresented populations. I aim to bridge gaps between data, medicine, and patient experience, ensuring that individuals with rare or complex conditions are seen, understood, and supported within healthcare systems. My journey has taught me that disability does not limit potential—it reshapes perspective. Living with a craniofacial condition has instilled resilience, empathy, and determination, values that guide both my academic path and my commitment to service. I aspire to use my education in bioinformatics to advocate for inclusive research, improve patient outcomes, and amplify voices often marginalized in medicine. By combining lived experience with scientific inquiry, I hope to help create a future where healthcare is more compassionate, accessible, and equitable for all.

]Calvin Coolidge once said "Nothing in the world can take the place of Persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. The slogan 'Press On' has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race." This quote is particularly resonant for me since I have faced many challenges in life that are both physical and mental. However, these challenges have not defined me and I have been able to “press on” and succeed despite the difficulties handed to me. I deserve this scholarship because I have the determination and grit to achieve my goals. I was not born perfect. Due to a chronic medical condition, I spent a lot of time either in a hospital or accompanied by a nurse. At one point, I suffered a medical setback in seventh grade that caused me to miss school for weeks on end. I would have complication after complication that would pull me out of school every month. I ended up missing around two months of school collectively, but my condition didn’t get better. However, despite the huge number of absences and the anxiety of my situation lingering in the back of my head, I fought hard to keep my grades up. I often worked on extra credit assignments and studied hard on my tests, desperate to claw my way to the top. By the end of the year, my condition had improved and I had still maintained an Honor Roll status. Ironically enough, that tumultuous year was also the same year when my passion for biology was born. As someone who was a recipient of very unique genes, I was enthralled by the concept of genetics and I started to center my coursework around it in high school. Additionally, I also joined a nonprofit organization that was centered around those with craniofacial differences, which was what I had. I was able to learn a lot, as a result, and I now plan on furthering my education with the help of this scholarship. I believe that my chosen career path will ultimately help not only me but others like me as well. My long-term career goals consist of entering the genetic field and becoming someone who has the knowledge and skill to inform people about rare disorders and how to treat or handle them. I believe that my career goals will not only help families on an individual level but prolonged research on rare genetic conditions will spread more awareness in the medical field and the outside world. I believe that if an effort is made to find out more information about rare disorders, information will inevitably be found and shared with the world. If more people understand, acceptance and inclusion will follow. The typical answers one would get to the question ”How you will use the money if awarded,” would probably be something like “housing” or “meal plans”. I plan to use the funding to access the resources that will best nurture my education. I plan on making the most of my time at my chosen university and I think using this scholarship to obtain their resources is the best way to do that. I can use my education to help others like me and lead them to a brighter future. This scholarship will not only help me, but many other families to come. Why do I deserve this scholarship? Because I have the drive to achieve my goals and the willingness to help others.

“What’s wrong with your face?” “Why do you look like that?” “What’s wrong with you?” When I was born, I was diagnosed with a condition that caused craniofacial differences, which are malformations in the skull. As a result, nearly every day I was asked these questions by random strangers and classmates. I would always curl into myself and reply in a clipped voice, “Nothing is wrong with me,” and denied an explanation. They would then leave me alone and never speak to me again. Throughout my middle school years, things took a shift. I noticed that people were polite towards me, but seemed uncomfortable like they were afraid of accidentally insulting me Later when I reflected on these experiences, I concluded that the reason I was being isolated was that people knew nothing about my condition. It was probably difficult for others to approach someone with a facial difference, especially if they didn’t want to accidentally offend them. My condition was especially rare; only 1 in every 100,000 kids is born with it. Upon this realization, I took to the habit of explaining my deformity to those who were curious, which helped me make many more friends. During the eighth grade, I moved to North Carolina, where I was placed into the care of the Duke Craniofacial Team at Duke University. Most of the medical complications I faced as a child were mostly fixed, so I rarely got to know the team. However, one day, I received a forwarded email from my mother from the leader of the team asking me if I could be a representative for those with craniofacial differences at a sponsored baseball game. I was thrilled to be surrounded by people who knew what it was like to be me. Together we could help spread awareness about people like us. Now, I still work with the team in representing craniofacial differences. I often help with special events where families can come and mingle with us. I also assist in setting up activities for smaller kids, with or without facial deformities. I especially love working with younger kids like me, possibly because I want to be a role model for them. I think that surrounding them with all this support and encouragement will help boost their self-confidence and inspire them to become future advocates. Aside from my family, I did not have much support in terms of my condition, so I hope that I can be a source of strength for kids like me. In addition to how my organization and I help the craniofacial community, we also assist the other end of the spectrum; that is, those without any problems with their faces. Another representative and I both met at an event where we agreed to work together on how to instruct others on how to best approach us. We have both been unintentionally hurt by people who are trying to be kind to us but end up making us feel patronized or even bullied. We try to teach others how to treat people with facial differences and perhaps even disabled people in general. My differences have left a great impact on how I want to help others. They give me a different perspective on how I see the world and they are a source of motivation. I love serving my community, not just because they can learn more about me, but because people like me can be properly supported and advocated for. I feel great knowing that people can walk away from our events knowing that they too can be equalized and embraced.

Up until I turned 16, I was a professional neck breather. You’re probably thinking “What even is that? Is that some kind of sports lingo?” No. It means that I had to wear a trachea tube since I was 2 months old. A trachea tube is literally a tube inserted into the trachea to help someone breathe. What was my problem? I had “craniofacial differences.” Basically, it meant that bones in my skull fused together prematurely, which causes facial abnormalities and difficulty breathing. I was accompanied by a nurse 24/7, even at night. I could not go swimming unless I were in a baby pool. Teachers often had to accommodate my hearing deficiency. People stared and pointed at me wherever I went. Nobody wanted to hang out with me and I often ended up alone. My saving grace came in the form of surgery in the summer of 2017. The operation was simple; doctors would cut open my skull and place a RED distraction device on the frontal lobe of my skull. The RED kind of looks like a neck brace, only it’s for the face. After the surgery, my face would be pulled forward millimeter by millimeter over the course of 22 days. This would create space in my skull so that it would make breathing easier for me. So like I said, pretty simple. I still struggle with my differences even after that game-changer. No matter what, I will still have trouble hearing and speaking. My face is still funky-looking and I still need to be careful with things like upper-respiratory diseases. However, I don’t let these things get to me. Instead, I’d rather focus on the things that I like to do, such as drawing, crocheting, and volunteering outside of school. During the eighth grade, I moved to North Carolina, where I was placed into the care of the Duke Craniofacial Team at Duke University. One day, I received a forwarded email from my mother from the leader of the team asking me if I could be a representative for those with craniofacial differences at a sponsored baseball game. Soon, it became a volunteering gig that I could take a lot of pride in. The best part was the inclusion; there were so many people who had similar issues to mine and knew what I was going through. I was thrilled to be surrounded by people who knew what it was like to be someone like me. Now, I still work with the team in representing craniofacial differences. I often help with special events where families can come and mingle with us. I also assist in setting up activities for smaller kids, with or without facial deformities. I especially love working with younger kids like me, possibly because I want to be a role model for them. I think that surrounding them with all this support and encouragement will help boost their self-confidence and inspire them to become future advocates. Aside from my family, I did not have much support in terms of my condition, so I hope that I can be a source of strength for kids like me. My differences have left a great impact on how I want to help others. Now that I have seen the impact that a supportive community can give, I am inspired to become an advocate for those with craniofacial differences. I want to help create an environment in which people with all abilities and differences feel included. I feel great knowing that people can walk away from our events knowing that they too can be equalized and embraced.

Technology is both our superhero and our supervillain. On the one hand, our parents are giving us the stink-eye for using our cell phones at the dinner table, but on the other hand, we are accomplishing breakthroughs every day because of advancing technology. I think it has been one of the most extraordinary things ever happening to us, especially concerning health. From an app that measures blood pressure to an MRI that identifies a tumor in its early stages, technology has dramatically improved our everyday lives. For me, technology has taken the form of a hearing aid. I was born with “craniofacial differences” which are deformities that affect the skull and other facial bones. These differences result in many issues with breathing, digestion, speech, and hearing. When I was born, the doctors told my parents that I would be unable to hear or speak at all. Fortunately, my hearing loss was not as dramatic as they had predicted, but it was still severe. Eventually, I was fitted with my first hearing aid just before I turned 4. Thanks to the bone-conductive sound processor, the faded sounds I registered were amplified to twice the usual volume. When I put my aids on, I think “Technology did that”. The history of hearing aid is fascinating. The first hearing device was nothing more than a small, handheld ear trumpet invented back in the 1700s. Nearly two centuries later, the trumpet had evolved into a set of tubes that turned speech into electrical signals, which were then amplified. Over time, inventors created high-speed microprocessors, microcomputers, and, eventually, a fully digital hearing aid. Now, with the arrival of Bluetooth-enabled devices, inventors today continue to improve hearing technology. I have been able to see firsthand how these improvements make an impact. Often, I struggled to communicate with my classmates because of the old Starkey hearing aids that I wore for years. Now, with my new Baha, I am able to use features such as “crowd settings” to adjust to any setting at school or home. Because of what my hearing aids do for me daily, it has helped me realize how important they and other medical devices are worldwide. It has also inspired me to join the medical unit so that I may be able to help others using technology. So, even though technology may sometimes be a disadvantage, it has proved to be my superhero.

Do you know that Panic Pete toy you often got at birthday parties? The one where you would squeeze him and his eyes would pop out of his head as if he just received the shock of his life? That´s a pretty good description of me too. What was my problem? I had Pfeiffer´s Syndrome. This is a craniofacial disorder that causes the bones in the skull to fuse prematurely before birth. Pfeiffer´s is very rare; only 1 person in 100,000 people is born with it. As a result, I suffered from a plethora of problems, such as a hearing deficiency, difficulty eating and breathing, and yes, Panic Pete eyes that bulged out of my skull. Needless to say, my disfigured face and the trach tube jutting out of my neck to help me breathe often made it difficult for me to approach my classmates normally. However, I have a generally chill disposition and I don´t let superficial things like looks determine my social life. I actually love to make jokes about joining a beauty pageant one day. I don´t use social media (I know, a teen not using social media, what is this magic?), and I prefer to be brutally honest about things. I also like to spend a lot of time self-reflecting in order to better myself. However, my laid-back personality doesn't stop me from working hard. After entering high school, I started to push myself out of my safety bubble, despite insecurities stemming from my lack of social interaction. I joined lots of clubs and organizations, including a nonprofit that advocates for those with craniofacial differences. In my opinion, a huge part of excelling in life involves connecting with people. I am a huge chatterbox, and I love to socialize with others. Now, I feel more confident in myself than ever before, and I am ready to take on the world. Now, I still work with the team in representing craniofacial differences. I often help with special events where families can come and mingle with us. I also assist in setting up activities for smaller kids, with or without facial deformities. I especially love working with younger kids like me, possibly because I want to be a role model for them. I think that surrounding them with all this support and encouragement will help boost their self-confidence and inspire them to become future advocates. Aside from my family, I did not have much support in terms of my condition, so I hope that I can be a source of strength for kids like me. Ironically enough, that nonprofit for craniofacial conditions was what inspired my passion for biology and biotechnology. I sympathize with anyone who has gone through difficult times because of an acquired condition. As a result, I want to help answer the questions that people may have about themselves. I specifically want to enter the bioinformatics field, which involves using data to predict information about medical conditions, prevent them, or administer treatment to those who are affected. I believe that my career goals will not only help families on an individual level but continued research on rare disorders will help spread more awareness about them in the medical field and the outside world. My condition has definitely given me a unique perspective on how I see the world and myself. It has helped me overcome my insecurities and inspired me to help others like myself. I feel motivated and excited for the future that awaits me. I embrace the opportunity to give others like me a future that is filled with equality, inclusion, and hope.

“What’s wrong with your face?” “Why do you look so ugly?” “What’s wrong with you?” When I was born, I was diagnosed with a condition that caused craniofacial differences, which are malformations in the skull. As a result, nearly every day I was asked these questions by random strangers and classmates. I would always curl into myself and reply in a clipped voice, “Nothing is wrong with me,” and denied a proper explanation. They would then leave me alone and never speak to me again. Throughout my middle school years, things took a shift. I noticed that people were polite towards me, but seemed uncomfortable like they were afraid of accidentally insulting me. Later when I reflected on these experiences, I concluded that the reason I was being isolated was that people knew nothing about my condition. It was probably difficult for others to approach someone with a facial difference, especially if they didn’t want to accidentally offend them. My condition was especially rare; only 1 in every 100,000 kids is born with it. Upon this realization, I took to the habit of explaining my deformity to those who were curious, which helped me make many more friends. Right before I started eighth grade in 2019, I moved to North Carolina, where I was placed into the care of the Duke Craniofacial Team at Duke University. Most of the medical complications I faced as a child were mostly fixed, so I rarely got to know the team. However, one day, I received a forwarded email from my mother from the leader of the team asking me if I could be a representative for those with craniofacial differences at a sponsored baseball game. The support as well as my willingness to educate others about my condition helped me to make many more friends. That organization is what inspired me to choose the career pathway I want to take. I believe that my education and career goals will play a pivotal part in what I do to support the rare disease community. My long-term career goals consist of entering the genetic field and becoming someone who has the knowledge and skill to inform people about rare genetic disorders and how to best treat, or handle them. I believe that my career goals will not only help families on an individual level but continued research on rare genetic conditions will help spread more awareness about them in the medical field and the outside world. The more we learn, the easier it is for affected people to manage their disorder. Another solution that can be solved using knowledge is acceptance from the outside world. I learned from experience that humans, by nature, are afraid of the unknown. The downside is that it results in ostracization, exclusion, and patronization. However, modern technology has made it so that knowledge can be accessible everywhere at any time. Therefore, if an effort is made to find out more information about rare disorders, information will inevitably be found and can be shared with the world. If more people understand, acceptance and inclusion will soon follow. My differences have left a great impact on how I want to help others. They give me a very different perspective on how I see the world and they are a huge source of motivation. I love serving my community, not just because they can learn more about me, but because people like me can be properly supported and advocated for. I feel excited knowing that what I have chosen to do can make disabled people feel like they can be equalized and embraced.

Up until I turned 13, I was never left alone. Instead, nurses watched my every step. Up until I turned 13, I never slept in a typical bedroom. Instead, half of my bedroom was taken up with an oxygen cylinder, a humidifier, a desk for the nurse, and a portable suction machine. Up until I turned 13, I did not dare to ask anyone to be my friend. Instead, I kept my nose in a book while my classmates laughed and chattered all around me. What was my problem? I had “craniofacial differences.” That means that bones in my skull fused prematurely, which caused a hearing deficiency, dental issues, and difficulty breathing resulting in a tracheostomy tube to help me breathe. After a life-changing surgery, most of my medical issues had been resolved and I was ready to face a brand-new test: High school. I had never even gone to school by myself. Instead, I was followed around by a nurse who dragged around a suitcase full of medical supplies. As a result, I always had someone watching me, protecting me from much of the indignation from others that came from being disabled. I was also not allowed to make many decisions for myself, often depending on the adults for guidance when it came to almost anything. High school was very difficult, to say the least. The transition to high school for a normal kid is hard enough, but for someone like me, it was very challenging to make new friends, or even socialize. In addition, the load of expectations that most high school students have to endure was a lot to bear. However, I worked hard and kept my head up. I have always held grades of high importance, even in middle school. Despite how intimidated I was, I started to push myself out of my comfort zone by taking on more and more honors and AP courses throughout my high school career. Now, my high As and Bs are a source of pride and a symbol of my efforts. My daily routine back then was pretty simple: A nurse would come to my house and wake me up for school. I took my vital signs, ate breakfast, and went to school with the nurse. Then I would go straight home, take my vitals again, and the nurse would leave. I never went anywhere else after that. When I started high school I joined lots of clubs and organizations in and outside of school, which helped me make lots of friends. One organization sticks out to me: a nonprofit meant to advocate for those with craniofacial conditions. I was fascinated by this organization and I learned how to open up to others as a result. Now, I still continue to work with them and I hope to continue to be an advocate for them as well. This nonprofit for craniofacial conditions was what also inspired my passion for bioinformatics and biotechnology. I sympathize with anyone who has gone through difficult times because of an acquired condition. I specifically want to enter the bioinformatics field, which involves using data to predict information about medical conditions, prevent them, or administer treatment to those who are affected. I believe that my career goals will not only help families on an individual level but continued research on rare disorders will help spread more awareness about them in the medical field and the outside world. I feel motivated and excited for the future that awaits me. I embrace the opportunity to give others like me a future that is filled with equality and hope.

Due to my facial differences, one that has affected me all my life, and my passion for biology, my dream version of myself consists of becoming a bioinformaticist who can obtain and distribute information about rare diseases to make life easier for those affected by medical conditions just like me.

Calvin Coolidge once said "Nothing in the world can take the place of Persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. The slogan 'Press On' has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race." This quote is particularly resonant for me since I have faced many challenges in life that are both physical and mental. However, these challenges have not defined me and I have been able to “press on” and succeed despite the difficulties handed to me. I deserve this scholarship because I have the determination and grit to achieve my goals. I was not born perfect. Due to a chronic medical condition, I spent a lot of time either in a hospital or accompanied by a nurse. At one point, I suffered a medical setback in seventh grade that caused me to miss school for weeks on end. I would have complication after complication that would pull me out of school every month. I ended up missing around two months of school collectively, but my condition didn’t get better. However, despite the huge number of absences and the anxiety of my situation lingering in the back of my head, I fought hard to keep my grades up. I often worked on extra credit assignments and studied hard on my tests, desperate to claw my way to the top. By the end of the year, my condition had improved and I had still maintained an Honor Roll status. Ironically enough, that tumultuous year was also the same year when my passion for biology was born. As someone who was a recipient of very unique genes, I was enthralled by the concept of genetics and I started to center my coursework around it in high school. Additionally, I also joined a nonprofit organization that was centered around those with craniofacial differences, which was what I had. I was able to learn a lot, as a result, and I now plan on furthering my education with the help of this scholarship. I believe that my chosen career path will ultimately help not only me but others like me as well. My long-term career goals consist of entering the genetic field and becoming someone who has the knowledge and skill to inform people about rare disorders and how to treat or handle them. I believe that my career goals will not only help families on an individual level but prolonged research on rare genetic conditions will spread more awareness in the medical field and the outside world. I believe that if an effort is made to find out more information about rare disorders, information will inevitably be found and shared with the world. If more people understand, acceptance and inclusion will follow. The typical answers one would get to the question ”How you will use the money if awarded,” would probably be something like “housing” or “meal plans”. I plan to use the funding to access the resources that will best nurture my education. I plan on making the most of my time at my chosen university and I think using this scholarship to obtain their resources is the best way to do that. I can use my education to help others like me and lead them to a brighter future. This scholarship will not only help me, but many other families to come. Why do I deserve this scholarship? Because I have the drive to achieve my goals and the willingness to help others.

In the first grade, I sat down on the bus, as it hurtled along to school. With a stab of annoyance, I realized that someone was kicking my seat. I turned around to ask if whoever was doing it would stop. The culprit took one look, his jaw dropped open, and he started screaming hysterically. His friend, another boy mimicked him. ¨Monster!” They shrieked. I flushed with shame and anger before another feeling, a feeling of helplessness cooled my anger. It was not the first time I had been humiliated, and it certainly wasn´t the last. What was my problem? I had a rare disorder that causes the bones in the skull to fuse prematurely before birth. As a result, I suffered from a plethora of problems, such as a hearing deficiency, difficulty eating and breathing, and, eyes that bulged out of my skull. Needless to say, my disfigured face made it difficult for me to approach my classmates. However, I have a pretty chill disposition and I don´t let superficial things like looks determine my social life. When I was thirteen, I received a life-changing surgery that made it possible for me to breathe better and improve my appearance. Emboldened, I started to push myself out of my safety bubble. I joined lots of clubs and organizations, including a nonprofit that advocates for those with facial differences. In my opinion, a huge part of excelling in life involves connecting with people. I am a huge chatterbox, and I love to socialize with others. Now, I feel more confident in myself than ever before, and I am ready to take on the world. I also believe education is a key ingredient for a recipe for success and I don´t let my disorder hinder that either. I have been pulled out of school many times for things like surgeries and doctor´s appointments. However, that has not deterred me from wanting to excel. In one particular instance, I suffered a medical setback in seventh grade that caused me to miss school for weeks on end. I ended up missing around two months of school collectively, but my condition didn’t get better. However, despite the huge number of absences and the anxiety of my situation lingering in the back of my head, I fought hard to keep my grades up. I often worked on extra credit assignments and studied hard on my tests, desperate to claw my way to the top. By the end of the year, my condition had improved and I had still maintained an Honor Roll status. I do not think that my condition will ever stop me from attaining my goals. I worked hard and will continue to do so in the future to make my dreams come true. Ironically enough, that nonprofit for craniofacial conditions was what inspired my passion for biology and biotechnology. I sympathize with anyone who has gone through difficult times because of an acquired condition. As a result, I want to help answer the questions that people may have about themselves. I specifically want to enter the bioinformatics field, which involves using data to predict information about medical conditions, prevent them, or administer treatment to those who are affected. I believe that my career goals will not only help families on an individual level but continued research on rare disorders will help spread more awareness about them in the medical field and the outside world. I feel motivated and excited for the future that awaits me. I embrace the opportunity to give others like me a future that is filled with equality and hope.

“What’s wrong with your face?” “Why do you look so ugly?” “What’s wrong with you?” When I was born, I was diagnosed with a condition that caused craniofacial differences, which are malformations in the skull. As a result, nearly every day I was asked these questions by random strangers and classmates. I would always curl into myself and reply in a clipped voice, “Nothing is wrong with me,” and denied a proper explanation. They would then leave me alone and never speak to me again. Throughout my middle school years, things took a shift. I noticed that people were polite towards me, but seemed uncomfortable like they were afraid of accidentally insulting me. Later when I reflected on these experiences, I concluded that the reason I was being isolated was that people knew nothing about my condition. It was probably difficult for others to approach someone with a facial difference, especially if they didn’t want to accidentally offend them. My condition was especially rare; only 1 in every 100,000 kids is born with it. Upon this realization, I took to the habit of explaining my deformity to those who were curious, which helped me make many more friends. Right before I started eighth grade in 2019, I moved to North Carolina, where I was placed into the care of the Duke Craniofacial Team at Duke University. Most of the medical complications I faced as a child were mostly fixed, so I rarely got to know the team. However, one day, I received a forwarded email from my mother from the leader of the team asking me if I could be a representative for those with craniofacial differences at a sponsored baseball game. The support as well as my willingness to educate others about my condition helped me to make many more friends. That organization is what inspired me to choose the career pathway I want to take. I believe that my education and career goals will play a pivotal part in what I do to support the rare disease community. My long-term career goals consist of entering the genetic field and becoming someone who has the knowledge and skill to inform people about rare genetic disorders and how to best treat, or handle them. I believe that my career goals will not only help families on an individual level but continued research on rare genetic conditions will help spread more awareness about them in the medical field and the outside world. The more we learn, the easier it is for affected people to manage their disorder. Another solution that can be solved using knowledge is acceptance from the outside world. I learned from experience that humans, by nature, are afraid of the unknown. The downside is that it results in ostracization, exclusion, and patronization. However, modern technology has made it so that knowledge can be accessible everywhere at any time. Therefore, if an effort is made to find out more information about rare disorders, information will inevitably be found and can be shared with the world. If more people understand, acceptance and inclusion will soon follow. My differences have left a great impact on how I want to help others. They give me a very different perspective on how I see the world and they are a huge source of motivation. I love serving my community, not just because they can learn more about me, but because people like me can be properly supported and advocated for. I feel excited knowing that what I have chosen to do can make disabled people feel like they can be equalized and embraced.

“The he‑hare’s feet go hop and skip. The she‑hare’s eyes are muddled and fuddled. Two hares running side by side close to the ground, How can they tell if I am he or she?” This is a quote from a ballad that inspired one of my favorite childhood movies; Mulan. It may sound strange that of all the movies out there, I chose an animated Disney classic that came out over twenty years ago. However, just like Mulan herself, looks can be deceiving, and I think that this movie has left a strong impact on me due to its themes of femininity and equality. Mulan is a 1998 Disney movie about a Chinese girl old enough to marry. Later, her father is called to fight in a war. Worried that her father is too old to fight, she dresses up as a man and takes his place. She has trouble fitting in at military camp with the men and the brutal training regimen. However, she continues to persist by thinking outside the box and starts to improve while making friends along the way. In the end, they win the war, thanks to Mulan´s divergent ways of thinking and the training she learned. She receives awards from the Chinese emperor and returns home, as a war hero. Since childhood, I have been told many things from many different sources of media about what it means to be a female. With the growing sentiments of women becoming more independent, I think that the movement is slowly helping us attain a better future, one where a woman can choose what they want to do with their lives. However, I have noticed that with newer media and entertainment, women are often told to be less ¨feminine¨, while they often condescend to or shame men in entertainment in an attempt to compensate for female empowerment. The story of Mulan is, at its core, a story about compromise. No gender is superior to the other, and a mix of feminine and masculine traits is often the best way for the characters in the movie to solve a problem. For instance, during the harsh training Mulan receives, she is told to retrieve an arrow from the top of a pole while carrying heavy weights tied to her wrists. Everyone initially tries to climb up the pole using brute strength, something perceived as highly masculine but fails. However, Mulan learns to use the weights as a counterbalance to hoist herself to the top of the pole as well as her physical strength. She uses masculine and feminine traits to achieve her goal. Soon, her comrades follow, and everyone succeeds in training. This movie really gave me a clear understanding of how a woman like me could view others and myself; equally. Oftentimes, when a certain group is trying to be more supported by the community, we overcompensate by shaming another group or making one group superior to the other. I believe that men and women are different but equal to each other. They both have strengths and weaknesses, advantages and disadvantages. However, neither is better than the other and when they work together, they can do amazing things for the country. This movie has inspired me a lot to become someone who can promote equality and compromise. I believe that when we accept one another's strengths and flaws, we can help each other overcome those flaws, build on strengths, and find viable solutions to current problems that we face. It is only when someone tosses aside hate and reaches for collaboration can they bring honor to us all.

“What’s wrong with your face?” “Why do you look like that?” “What’s wrong with you?” When I was born, I was diagnosed with a condition that caused craniofacial differences, which are malformations in the skull. As a result, nearly every day I was asked these questions by random strangers and classmates. I would always curl into myself and reply in a clipped voice, “Nothing is wrong with me,” and denied a proper explanation. They would then leave me alone and never speak to me again. Throughout my middle school years, things took a shift. I noticed that people were polite towards me, but seemed uncomfortable like they were afraid of accidentally insulting me. Later when I reflected on these experiences, I concluded that the reason I was being isolated was that people knew nothing about my condition. It was probably difficult for others to approach someone with a facial difference, especially if they didn’t want to accidentally offend them. My condition was especially rare; only 1 in every 100,000 kids is born with it. Upon this realization, I took to the habit of explaining my deformity to those who were curious, which helped me make many more friends. During the eighth grade, I moved to North Carolina, where I was placed into the care of the Duke Craniofacial Team at Duke University. Most of the medical complications I faced as a child were mostly fixed, so I rarely got to know the team. However, one day, I received a forwarded email from my mother from the leader of the team asking me if I could be a representative for those with craniofacial differences at a sponsored baseball game. I was thrilled to be surrounded by people who knew what it was like to be me. Together we could help spread awareness about people like us. Now, I still work with the team in representing craniofacial differences. I often help with special events where families can come and mingle with us. I also assist in setting up activities for smaller kids, with or without facial deformities. I especially love working with younger kids like me, possibly because I want to be a role model for them. I think that surrounding them with all this support and encouragement will help boost their self-confidence and inspire them to become future advocates. Aside from my family, I did not have much support in terms of my condition, so I hope that I can be a source of strength for kids like me. My field of choice centers around biology. The Duke Cleft and Craniofacial Team helped inspire me to take up a Biology major, where I can learn more about rare genetic conditions and help others dealing with conditions of their own. This scholarship would be a great way for me to achieve my goals, which will help me and others as well. I want to use my own experiences as well as acquired knowledge to be able to spread awareness about rare genetic disorders and to provide comfort to families who need some clarity on how to deal with certain conditions. My differences have left a great impact on how I want to help others. They give me a very different perspective on how I see the world and they are a huge source of motivation. I love serving my community, not just because they can learn more about me, but because people like me can be properly supported and advocated for. I feel great knowing that people can walk away from our events knowing that they too can be equalized and embraced.

“What’s wrong with your face?” “Why do you look like that?” “What’s wrong with you?” When I was born, I was diagnosed with a condition that caused craniofacial differences, which are malformations in the skull. As a result, nearly every day I was asked these questions by random strangers and classmates. I would always curl into myself and reply in a clipped voice, “Nothing is wrong with me,” and denied an explanation. They would then leave me alone and never speak to me again. Throughout my middle school years, things took a shift. I noticed that people were polite towards me, but seemed uncomfortable like they were afraid of accidentally insulting me Later when I reflected on these experiences, I concluded that the reason I was being isolated was that people knew nothing about my condition. It was probably difficult for others to approach someone with a facial difference, especially if they didn’t want to accidentally offend them. My condition was especially rare; only 1 in every 100,000 kids is born with it. Upon this realization, I took to the habit of explaining my deformity to those who were curious, which helped me make many more friends. During the eighth grade, I moved to North Carolina, where I was placed into the care of the Duke Craniofacial Team at Duke University. Most of the medical complications I faced as a child were mostly fixed, so I rarely got to know the team. However, one day, I received a forwarded email from my mother from the leader of the team asking me if I could be a representative for those with craniofacial differences at a sponsored baseball game. I was thrilled to be surrounded by people who knew what it was like to be me. Together we could help spread awareness about people like us. Now, I still work with the team in representing craniofacial differences. I often help with special events where families can come and mingle with us. I also assist in setting up activities for smaller kids, with or without facial deformities. I especially love working with younger kids like me, possibly because I want to be a role model for them. I think that surrounding them with all this support and encouragement will help boost their self-confidence and inspire them to become future advocates. Aside from my family, I did not have much support in terms of my condition, so I hope that I can be a source of strength for kids like me. Being a leader in this organization has really helped shape not only who I am as a person but also how I can shape the perspectives of other people. I learned that humans, by nature, are afraid of the unknown. It's a survival tactic. The downside is that it results in ostracization, exclusion, and patronization. However, a leader in any organization can help spread information and awareness. Therefore, if an effort is made by a leader to spread information about rare disorders, information will be found and can be shared with the world. If more people understand, acceptance and inclusion will follow. My differences have left a great impact on how I want to help others. They give me a different perspective on how I see the world and they are a source of motivation. I love leading my organization, not just because the community can learn more about me, but because people like me can be properly supported and advocated for. I feel great knowing that people can walk away from our events knowing that they too can be equalized and embraced.

“What’s wrong with your face?” “Why do you look so ugly?” “What’s wrong with you?” When I was born, I was diagnosed with a condition that caused craniofacial differences, which are malformations in the skull. As a result, nearly every day I was asked these questions by random strangers and classmates. I would always curl into myself and reply in a clipped voice, “Nothing is wrong with me,” and denied a proper explanation. They would then leave me alone and never speak to me again. Throughout my middle school years, things took a shift. I noticed that people were polite towards me, but seemed uncomfortable like they were afraid of accidentally insulting me. Later when I reflected on these experiences, I concluded that the reason I was being isolated was that people knew nothing about my condition. It was probably difficult for others to approach someone with a facial difference, especially if they didn’t want to accidentally offend them. My condition was especially rare; only 1 in every 100,000 kids is born with it. Upon this realization, I took to the habit of explaining my deformity to those who were curious, which helped me make many more friends. Right before I started eighth grade in 2019, I moved to North Carolina, where I was placed into the care of the Duke Craniofacial Team at Duke University. Most of the medical complications I faced as a child were mostly fixed, so I rarely got to know the team. However, one day, I received a forwarded email from my mother from the leader of the team asking me if I could be a representative for those with craniofacial differences at a sponsored baseball game. The support as well as my willingness to educate others about my condition helped me to make many more friends. That organization is what inspired me to choose the career pathway I want to take. I believe that my education and career goals will play a pivotal part in what I do to support the rare disease community. My long-term career goals consist of entering the genetic field and becoming someone who has the knowledge and skill to inform people about rare genetic disorders and how to best treat, or handle them. I believe that my career goals will not only help families on an individual level but continued research on rare genetic conditions will help spread more awareness about them in the medical field and the outside world. The more we learn, the easier it is for affected people to manage their disorder. Another solution that can be solved using knowledge is acceptance from the outside world. I learned from experience that humans, by nature, are afraid of the unknown. The downside is that it results in ostracization, exclusion, and patronization. However, modern technology has made it so that knowledge can be accessible everywhere at any time. Therefore, if an effort is made to find out more information about rare disorders, information will inevitably be found and can be shared with the world. If more people understand, acceptance and inclusion will soon follow. My differences have left a great impact on how I want to help others. They give me a very different perspective on how I see the world and they are a huge source of motivation. I love serving my community, not just because they can learn more about me, but because people like me can be properly supported and advocated for. I feel excited knowing that what I have chosen to do can make disabled people feel like they can be equalized and embraced.

“What’s wrong with your face?” “Why do you look like that?” “What’s wrong with you?” When I was born, I was diagnosed with a condition that caused craniofacial differences, which are malformations in the skull. As a result, nearly every day I was asked these questions by random strangers and classmates. I would always curl into myself and reply in a clipped voice, “Nothing is wrong with me,” and denied a proper explanation. They would then leave me alone and never speak to me again. Throughout my middle school years, things took a shift. I noticed that people were polite towards me, but seemed uncomfortable like they were afraid of accidentally insulting me. Later when I reflected on these experiences, I concluded that the reason I was being isolated was that people knew nothing about my condition. It was probably difficult for others to approach someone with a facial difference, especially if they didn’t want to accidentally offend them. My condition was especially rare; only 1 in every 100,000 kids is born with it. Upon this realization, I took to the habit of explaining my deformity to those who were curious, which helped me make many more friends. During the eighth grade, I moved to North Carolina, where I was placed into the care of the Duke Craniofacial Team at Duke University. Most of the medical complications I faced as a child were mostly fixed, so I rarely got to know the team. However, one day, I received a forwarded email from my mother from the leader of the team asking me if I could be a representative for those with craniofacial differences at a sponsored baseball game. I was thrilled to be surrounded by people who knew what it was like to be me. Together we could help spread awareness about people like us. Now, I still work with the team in representing craniofacial differences. I often help with special events where families can come and mingle with us. I also assist in setting up activities for smaller kids, with or without facial deformities. I especially love working with younger kids like me, possibly because I want to be a role model for them. I think that surrounding them with all this support and encouragement will help boost their self-confidence and inspire them to become future advocates. Aside from my family, I did not have much support in terms of my condition, so I hope that I can be a source of strength for kids like me. My field of choice centers around biology. The Duke Cleft and Craniofacial Team] helped inspire me to take up a Biology major, where I can learn more about rare genetic conditions and help others dealing with conditions of their own. This scholarship would be a great way for me to achieve my goals, which will help me and others as well. I want to use my own experiences as well as acquired knowledge to be able to spread awareness about rare genetic disorders and to provide comfort to families who need some clarity on how to deal with certain conditions. My differences have left a great impact on how I want to help others. They give me a very different perspective on how I see the world and they are a huge source of motivation. I love serving my community, not just because they can learn more about me, but because people like me can be properly supported and advocated for. I feel great knowing that people can walk away from our events knowing that they too can be equalized and embraced.

Calvin Coolidge once said "Nothing in the world can take the place of Persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. The slogan 'Press On' has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race." This quote is particularly resonant for me since I have faced many challenges in life that are both physical and mental. However, these challenges have not defined me and I have been able to “press on” and succeed despite the bad hand cards handed to me. I deserve this scholarship because I have the determination and grit to achieve my goals. I was not born perfect. I often spent a lot of time either in a hospital or accompanied by a nurse. At one point, I suffered a medical setback in seventh grade that caused me to miss school for weeks on end. I would have complication after complication that would pull me out of school every month. I ended up missing around two months of school collectively, but my condition didn’t get better. However, despite the huge number of absences and the anxiety of my situation lingering in the back of my head, I fought hard to keep my grades up. I often worked on extra credit assignments and studied hard on my tests, desperate to claw my way to the top. By the end of the year, my condition had improved and I had still maintained an Honor Roll status. Ironically enough, that tumultuous year was also the same year when my passion for biology was born. As someone who was a recipient of very unique genes, I was enthralled by the concept of genetics and I started to center my coursework around it in high school. Additionally, I also joined a nonprofit organization that was centered around those with craniofacial differences, which was what I had. I was able to learn a lot, as a result, and I now plan on furthering my education in college with the help of this scholarship. I believe that my chosen career path will ultimately help not only me but others like me as well. I believe that my goals will not only help families on an individual level but continued research on rare genetic conditions will help spread more awareness about them in the outside world. The more we learn, the easier it is for people to manage their disorders. Another solution that can be solved using knowledge is acceptance from the outside world. I learned that humans, by nature, are afraid of the unknown. However, modern technology has made it so that knowledge can be accessible everywhere at any time. Therefore, if an effort is made to find out more information about rare disorders, information will inevitably be found and can be shared with the world. If more people understand, acceptance and inclusion will follow. The typical answers one would get to the question ”how you will use the money if awarded,” would probably be something like “housing” or “meal plans”. For me, I plan to use the funding to access the resources that will best nurture my genetics education. I can use my education to help others like me and lead them to a brighter future. Additionally, the struggles that I have endured have hardened me and developed grit and determination in me, which I will apply to my education. I have the passion and drive to achieve my goals and I look forward to my future

I don’t want to brag, but I was a very enthusiastic butterfly doctor when I was a kid. Friends from my old daycare would interrupt me while I was reading, poking me feverishly to redirect my attention to whichever butterfly needed my help. I would rush to the insect, assess its condition- and then completely blank out. Living organisms and their bodily functions enthralled me, that was clear. However, 9-year-old me flushed with embarrassment because, for all my big talk, I knew absolutely nothing about butterflies. Fast forward about four years later, my fascination with life had evolved from animals to humans. When I entered seventh grade, I met my first biology teacher, who started to explain to me for the first time how the human body worked. One topic stuck out to me specifically; The genetics unit. A clear reason why each individual is so different from the other. Each set of chromosomes helps define who someone is based on their parents' traits. It’s like a slot machine. The characteristics of the parents are scrambled together until they finally spit out the offspring’s traits. Ding ding! Not only was this an intriguing thought to think about, but it was also something I found to be an answer to my questions about myself. One thing you should know about me is that I am a very lucky recipient of unique genes. I was born with a rare syndrome that caused severe differences in my cranial structure. My eyes bulged out dramatically and I wore a tracheostomy tube because I had difficulty breathing. My condition used to confuse me to no end. I had two younger siblings who were in perfect health. My parents never had any problems with their health either. Why then, was I the only one? Why didn’t I turn out like the rest of my family? The concept of genetics was an answer to all my questions. With the personal desire to know more about my condition fulfilled, my attention was redirected toward others around me. I sympathize with anyone who has gone through difficult times because of an acquired condition. As a result, I want to help answer the questions that people may have about themselves. There are also jobs in genetics that involve genes and stem cell therapy. Thanks to these new additions to technology, we can potentially prevent inherited diseases and even cure cancer. I believe that my career goals will not only help families on an individual level but continued research on rare genetic conditions will help spread more awareness about them in the medical field and the outside world. The more we learn, the easier it is for affected people to manage their disorder. Another solution that can be solved using knowledge is acceptance from the outside world. I learned that humans, by nature, are afraid of the unknown. However, modern technology has made it so that knowledge can be accessible everywhere at any time. Therefore, if an effort is made to find out more information about rare disorders, information will inevitably be found and can be shared with the world. While I know the basics of the genetic lottery system, I still have a lot to learn before I enter the world of medicine. The path for me will be long and arduous. However, I am willing to work hard to achieve my goal. I welcome the opportunity to learn more about myself and the others around me. Each new thing I learn will equip me with the knowledge to properly diagnose and treat people, unlike the butterflies from third grade.

Calvin Coolidge once said "Nothing in the world can take the place of Persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. The slogan 'Press On' has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race." This quote is particularly resonant for me since I have faced many challenges in life that are both physical and mental. However, these challenges have not defined me and I have been able to “press on” and succeed despite the difficulties handed to me. I deserve this scholarship because I have the determination and grit to achieve my goals. I was not born perfect. I often spent a lot of time either in a hospital or accompanied by a nurse. At one point, I suffered a medical setback in seventh grade that caused me to miss school for weeks on end. I would have complication after complication that would pull me out of school every month. I ended up missing around two months of school collectively, but my condition didn’t get better. However, despite the huge number of absences and the anxiety of my situation lingering in the back of my head, I fought hard to keep my grades up. I often worked on extra credit assignments and studied hard on my tests, desperate to claw my way to the top. By the end of the year, my condition had improved and I had still maintained an Honor Roll status. Ironically enough, that tumultuous year was also the same year when my passion for biology was born. As someone who was a recipient of very unique genes, I was enthralled by the concept of genetics and I started to center my coursework around it in high school. Additionally, I also joined a nonprofit organization that was centered around those with craniofacial differences, which was what I had. I was able to learn a lot, as a result, and I now plan on furthering my education at UNC Charlotte with the help of this scholarship. I believe that my chosen career path will ultimately help not only me but others like me as well. The typical answers one would get to the question ”how you will use the money if awarded,” would probably be something like “housing” or “meal plans”. For me, I plan to use the funding to access the resources that will best nurture my genetics education. I plan on making the most of my time at UNC Charlotte and I think using this scholarship to obtain their resources is the best way to do that. I can use my education to help others like me and lead them to a brighter future. This scholarship will not only help me, but many other families to come. Why do I deserve this scholarship? Because I have the passion and drive to achieve my goals.

Up until I turned 16, I was a professional neck breather. You’re probably thinking “What on Earth is that? Is that some kind of sports lingo?” No. It means that I had to wear a trachea tube since I was 2 months old. A trachea tube is literally a tube inserted into the trachea to help someone breathe. What was my problem? I had “craniofacial differences.” Basically, it meant that bones in my skull fused together prematurely, which causes facial abnormalities and difficulty breathing. I was accompanied by a nurse 24/7, even at night. I could not go swimming unless I were in a baby pool. Teachers often had to accommodate my hearing deficiency. People stared and pointed at me wherever I went. Nobody wanted to hang out with me and I often ended up alone. My saving grace came in the form of surgery in the summer of 2017. The operation was simple; doctors would cut open my skull and place a RED distraction device on the frontal lobe of my skull. The RED kind of looks like a neck brace, only it’s for the face. After the surgery, my face would be pulled forward millimeter by millimeter over the course of 22 days. This would create space in my skull so that it would make breathing easier for me. So like I said, pretty simple. When I became a freshman in high school, I watched with glee as the trach tube finally fell away from my neck. As I waited for the hole in my neck to close up, I realized that, without knowing it, I had developed an extremely gritty personality. This perseverance had not just formed because of this one-off surgery, but it had grown stronger and stronger throughout my life, my life that had been marred by surgeries, medical complications, ostracization, and isolation. It quietly carried me through all my hurdles and led me to my latest and greatest victory: Liberation from the trach tube. During the eighth grade, I moved to North Carolina, where I was placed into the care of the Duke Craniofacial Team at Duke University. One day, I received a forwarded email from my mother from the leader of the team asking me if I could be a representative for those with craniofacial differences at a sponsored baseball game. I was thrilled to be surrounded by people who knew what it was like to be someone like me. Now, I still work with the team in representing craniofacial differences. I often help with special events where families can come and mingle with us. I also assist in setting up activities for smaller kids, with or without facial deformities. I especially love working with younger kids like me, possibly because I want to be a role model for them. I think that surrounding them with all this support and encouragement will help boost their self-confidence and inspire them to become future advocates. Aside from my family, I did not have much support in terms of my condition, so I hope that I can be a source of strength for kids like me. My differences have left a great impact on how I want to help others. Now that I have seen the dramatic difference because of my surgery, it has inspired me to become an advocate for those with craniofacial differences. I want to help create an environment in which people with all abilities and differences feel included. I feel great knowing that people can walk away from our events knowing that they too can be equalized and embraced.

“What’s wrong with your face?” “Why do you look like that?” “What’s wrong with you?” When I was born, I was diagnosed with a condition that caused craniofacial differences, which are malformations in the skull. As a result, nearly every day I was asked these questions by random strangers and classmates. I would always curl into myself and reply in a clipped voice, “Nothing is wrong with me,” and denied an explanation. They would then leave me alone and never speak to me again. Throughout my middle school years, things took a shift. I noticed that people were polite towards me, but seemed uncomfortable like they were afraid of accidentally insulting me Later when I reflected on these experiences, I concluded that the reason I was being isolated was that people knew nothing about my condition. It was probably difficult for others to approach someone with a facial difference, especially if they didn’t want to accidentally offend them. My condition was especially rare; only 1 in every 100,000 kids is born with it. Upon this realization, I took to the habit of explaining my deformity to those who were curious, which helped me make many more friends. During the eighth grade, I moved to North Carolina, where I was placed into the care of the Duke Craniofacial Team at Duke University. Most of the medical complications I faced as a child were mostly fixed, so I rarely got to know the team. However, one day, I received a forwarded email from my mother from the leader of the team asking me if I could be a representative for those with craniofacial differences at a sponsored baseball game. I was thrilled to be surrounded by people who knew what it was like to be me. Together we could help spread awareness about people like us. Now, I still work with the team in representing craniofacial differences. I often help with special events where families can come and mingle with us. I also assist in setting up activities for smaller kids, with or without facial deformities. I especially love working with younger kids like me, possibly because I want to be a role model for them. I think that surrounding them with all this support and encouragement will help boost their self-confidence and inspire them to become future advocates. Aside from my family, I did not have much support in terms of my condition, so I hope that I can be a source of strength for kids like me. In addition to how my organization and I help the craniofacial community, we also assist the other end of the spectrum; that is, those without any problems with their faces. Another representative and I both met at an event where we agreed to work together on how to instruct others on how to best approach us. We have both been unintentionally hurt by people who are trying to be kind to us but end up making us feel patronized or even bullied. We try to teach others how to treat people with facial differences and perhaps even disabled people in general. My differences have left a great impact on how I want to help others. They give me a different perspective on how I see the world and they are a source of motivation. I love serving my community, not just because they can learn more about me, but because people like me can be properly supported and advocated for. I feel great knowing that people can walk away from our events knowing that they too can be equalized and embraced.

I don’t want to brag, but I was a very enthusiastic butterfly doctor when I was a kid. Friends from my old daycare would interrupt me while I was reading, poking me feverishly to redirect my attention to whichever butterfly needed my help. I would rush to the insect, assess its condition- and then completely blank out. Living organisms and their bodily functions enthralled me, that was clear. However, 9-year-old me flushed with embarrassment because, for all my big talk, I knew absolutely nothing about butterflies. Fast forward about four years later, my fascination with life had evolved from animals to humans. When I entered seventh grade, I met my first biology teacher, who started to explain to me for the first time how the human body worked. One topic stuck out to me specifically; The genetics unit. A clear reason why each individual is so different from the other. Each set of chromosomes helps define who someone is based on their parents' traits. It’s like a slot machine. The characteristics of the parents are scrambled together until they finally spit out the offspring’s traits. Ding ding! Not only was this an intriguing thought to think about, but it was also something I found to be an answer to my questions about myself. One thing you should know about me is that I am a very lucky recipient of unique genes. I was born with a rare syndrome that caused severe differences in my cranial structure. My eyes bulged out dramatically and I wore a trachea tube because I had difficulty breathing. My condition used to confuse me to no end. I had two younger siblings who were in perfect health. My parents never had any problems with their health either. Why then, was I the only one? Why didn’t I turn out like the rest of my family? The concept of genetics was like an answer to all my questions. With the personal desire to know more about my condition fulfilled, my attention was redirected toward others around me. I sympathize with anyone who has gone through difficult times because of an acquired condition. As a result, I want to help answer the questions that people may have about themselves. There are also jobs in genetics that involve gene and stem cell therapy. Thanks to these new additions to technology, we can potentially prevent inherited diseases and even cure cancer. While I know the basics of the genetic lottery system, I still have a lot to learn before I enter the world of medicine. The path for me will be long and arduous. I would need to earn a bachelor's degree, a master’s degree, and an M.D. or a D.O. However, I am willing to work hard to achieve my goal. I welcome the opportunity to learn more about myself and the others around me. Each new thing I learn will equip me with the knowledge to properly diagnose and treat people, unlike the butterflies from third grade.

Technology is both our superhero and our supervillain. On the one hand, our parents are giving us the stink-eye for using our cell phones at the dinner table, but on the other hand, we are accomplishing breakthroughs every day because of advancing technology. I think it has been one of the most extraordinary things ever happening to us, especially concerning health. From an app that measures blood pressure to an MRI that identifies a tumor in its early stages, technology has dramatically improved our everyday lives. For me, technology has taken the form of a hearing aid. I was born with “craniofacial differences” which are deformities that affect the skull and other facial bones. These differences result in many issues with breathing, digestion, speech, and hearing. When I was born, the doctors told my parents that I would be unable to hear or speak at all. Fortunately, my hearing loss was not as dramatic as they had predicted, but it was still severe. Eventually, I was fitted with my first hearing aid just before I turned 4. Thanks to the bone-conductive sound processor, the minimal sounds I normally registered were amplified to what felt like twice the usual volume. When I put my aids on, I think “technology did that”. The history of hearing aid is fascinating. One of the first hearing devices was nothing more than a small, handheld ear trumpet invented back in the 1700s. Nearly two centuries later, the trumpet had evolved into a set of tubes that turned speech into electrical signals, which were then amplified. From there, it only got better. Over time, inventors created high-speed microprocessors, microcomputers, and, eventually, a fully digital hearing aid. Now, with the arrival of Bluetooth-enabled devices, inventors today continue to improve hearing technology. Because of what my hearing aids do for me daily, it has helped me realize how important they and other medical devices are worldwide. It has also inspired me to join the medical unit so that I may be able to help others using technology. So, even though technology may sometimes be a disadvantage, it has proved to be my superhero.

Calvin Coolidge once said "Nothing in the world can take the place of Persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. The slogan 'Press On' has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race." This quote is particularly resonant for me since I have faced many challenges in life that are both physical and mental. However, these challenges have not defined me and I have been able to “press on” and succeed despite the difficulties handed to me. I deserve this scholarship because I have the determination and grit to achieve my goals. I was not born perfect. I often spent a lot of time either in a hospital or accompanied by a nurse. At one point, I suffered a medical setback in seventh grade that caused me to miss school for weeks on end. I would have complication after complication that would pull me out of school every month. I ended up missing around two months of school collectively, but my condition didn’t get better. However, despite the huge number of absences and the anxiety of my situation lingering in the back of my head, I fought hard to keep my grades up. I often worked on extra credit assignments and studied hard on my tests, desperate to claw my way to the top. By the end of the year, my condition had improved and I had still maintained an Honor Roll status. Ironically enough, that tumultuous year was also the same year when my passion for biology was born. As someone who was a recipient of very unique genes, I was enthralled by the concept of genetics and I started to center my coursework around it in high school. Additionally, I also joined a nonprofit organization that was centered around those with craniofacial differences, which was what I had. I was able to learn a lot, as a result, and I now plan on furthering my education with the help of this scholarship. I believe that my chosen career path will ultimately help not only me but others like me as well. The typical answers one would get to the question ”how you will use the money if awarded,” would probably be something like “housing” or “meal plans”. For me, I plan to use the funding to access the resources that will best nurture my genetics education. I plan on making the most of my time at my chosen university and I think using this scholarship to obtain their resources is the best way to do that. I can use my education to help others like me and lead them to a brighter future. This scholarship will not only help me, but many other families to come. Why do I deserve this scholarship? Because I have the passion and drive to achieve my goals.

My chosen field of study is cellular and molecular biology. In particular, I want to focus on the genetic therapy involved in biology. I know that manipulating genes is a new field, introduced around 50 years ago. As such, it is a somewhat experimental field, where new discoveries and opportunities are found every day. With these also comes a multitude of questions. There are many questions that I have but two questions that nag me often whenever I reflect on my career choices are these: What are the effects of genetic engineering and is it worth it? How do ethics play a role in genetic modifications, and how far can we go before there are boundaries set? I believe that asking these questions will push me to become a more motivated and engaged alumna after college. We have all heard horror stories of what something like GMOs can do to humans, animals, and the environment. Things like cancer, DNA mutations, antibiotic resistance, and cross-contamination are some of the more common answers. These are all serious issues that need to be addressed, for the sake of a healthy human population and an ecosystem. If the ecosystem is threatened by, let’s say, a GMO that becomes an invasive species, biodiversity will decrease, and potentially even cause a trophic cascade in the food web set up in that area. I would like to learn more about these effects and why they happen. On the other hand, we also have the medical side of genetics. The other is the medical side. Genetic engineering has greatly improved the lives of many individuals and cured many diseases and conditions. Things like cancer, diabetes, asthma, and heart disease are becoming more manageable thanks to genetic modification. However, they can also have unintended consequences like allergic reactions, uncontrollable population growth, and the fact that these genetic treatments are costly. I want to find out why they are so unpredictable and how to combat the cons. The second question is something that is personal to me and many other individuals. I think that genetic engineering can stretch far beyond our current limits if we nurture it. However, there are moral questions that need to be addressed. When we use medicine to change the DNA of a person so they don’t succumb to genetic illnesses, are we helping them, or tampering with something God created? When we create a GMO that produces more crops and therefore sustains the human carrying capacity, is this progress or egotism? As a Christian, I want to find the perfect balance between medicine and madness, agriculture and arrogance. Obviously, there are many other questions that I have about my field that I plan to find out. However, I think these questions deserve the most attention because they clarify some of the most vital aspects of gene therapy and current technology. I hope to learn the answers as I continue to pursue my passion and that they will lead me on an active and engaged path.

Up until I turned 16, I was a professional neck breather. You’re probably thinking “Is that some kind of sports lingo?” No. It means that I wore a trachea tube since I was 2 months old. A trachea tube is literally a tube inserted into the trachea to help someone breathe. What was my problem? I had “craniofacial differences.” Basically, it meant that bones in my skull fused together prematurely, and the end result was a mouth-breathing, round-faced girl with bulging eyes and, yes, a tracheostomy tube right below her Adam’s apple. I was accompanied by a nurse 24/7, even at night. I could not go swimming unless it was in a baby pool. Nobody wanted to hang out with me and I often ended up alone. My saving grace came in the form of surgery in the summer of 2017. The operation was simple; doctors would cut open my skull and place a RED distraction device on the frontal lobe of my skull. The RED kind of looks like a neck brace, only it’s for the face. After the surgery, my face would be pulled forward millimeter by millimeter over the course of 22 days. This would create space in my skull so that it made breathing easier for me. So like I said, pretty simple. Needless to say, that was the worst summer ever. Complications arose following the surgery. My left eye became infected, and I became almost permanently blind in one eye. Cerebrospinal fluid slowly leaked from my left nostril, and I was put on bedrest twice for two-week periods. We even went in for a spinal tap to fix the leak, and I suffered my first seizure. By the time I had fully recovered from everything, summer had ended and the school year was nearly over. When I became a freshman in high school, I watched with glee as the trach tube finally fell away from my neck. As I waited for the hole in my neck to close up, I realized that, without knowing it, I had developed an extremely gritty personality. This perseverance had not just formed because of this one-off surgery, but it had grown stronger and stronger throughout my life, my life that had been marred by surgeries, medical complications, ostracization, and isolation. It quietly carried me through all my hurdles and led me to my latest and greatest victory: Liberation from the trach tube. That was just the beginning of my joy. Gone were the days of getting stared at wherever I went. I could confidently walk up to people and talk with them, compliment them, and laugh with them. All the teasing and the rude comments had become distant relics of the past. Now that I have seen the dramatic difference because of my surgery, it has inspired me to become an advocate for those with craniofacial differences. I want to help create an environment in which people with all abilities and differences feel included. Going forward, I know I will face many more mountains on my journey. However, I also know that I can persevere through it. In fact, I want to continue to grow more and more resilient as I get older, so now I welcome all the burdens and hardships that life has to offer. That is why, when people inevitably judge me for my views or when I find myself bending under the weight of work, I will smile. I will smile because I know what I will be when I conquer those mountains. I was an excellent neck breather, but I am a better overcomer.

Up until I turned 16, I was a professional neck breather. You’re probably thinking “What on Earth is that? Is that some kind of sports lingo?” No. It means that I wore a trachea tube since I was 2 months old. What was my problem? I had “craniofacial differences.” It meant that bones in my skull fused prematurely, and the result was a mouth-breathing, round-faced girl with bulging eyes and, yes, a tracheostomy tube right below her Adam’s apple. Teachers often had to accommodate my hearing deficiency. People stared and pointed at me wherever I went. Nobody wanted to hang out with me and I often ended up alone. My saving grace came in the form of surgery in the summer of 2017. The operation was simple; doctors would cut open my skull and place a RED distraction device on the frontal lobe of my skull. The RED kind of looks like a neck brace, only it’s for the face. After the surgery, my face would be pulled forward millimeter by millimeter over 22 days. This would create space in my skull so that it would make breathing easier for me. So like I said, pretty simple. Needless to say, that was the worst summer ever. Problem after problem arose following the surgery. My left eye became infected, and I became almost permanently blind in one eye. I contracted temporary nerve paralysis in my arm. Cerebrospinal fluid slowly leaked from my left nostril, and I was put on bedrest twice for two-week periods. We even went in for a spinal tap to fix the leak, and I suffered my first seizure. I took seizure meds, which caused a major allergic reaction. By the time I had fully recovered from everything, summer had ended and the school year was nearly over. When I became a freshman in high school, I watched with glee as the trach tube finally fell away from my neck. As I waited for the hole in my neck to close up, I realized that, without knowing it, I had developed an extremely gritty personality. This perseverance had not just formed because of this one-off surgery, but it had grown stronger and stronger throughout my life, my life that had been marred by surgeries, medical complications, ostracization, and isolation. It quietly carried me through all my hurdles and led me to my latest and greatest victory: Liberation from the trach tube. That was just the beginning of my joy. Gone were the days of getting stared at wherever I went. I could confidently walk up to people and talk with them, compliment them, and laugh with them. Now that I have seen the dramatic difference because of my surgery, it has inspired me to become an advocate for those with craniofacial differences. I want to help create an environment in which people with all abilities and differences feel included. Going forward, I know I will face many more mountains on my journey. However, I also know that I can persevere through it. I want to continue to grow more and more resilient as I get older, so now I welcome all the burdens and hardships that life has to offer. I will power through all of it. That is why, when people inevitably judge me for my views or when I find myself bending under the weight of work, I will smile. I will smile because I know what I will be when I conquer those mountains. I was an excellent neck breather, but I am a better overcomer.

Do you know that one kid in every group project who knew how to finish the project without ever having to communicate with the rest of the group? 99% of the time, I was always that kid. Throughout much of grade school and middle school, I preferred to work on things by myself rather than ask someone to be my partner. This was mostly because I had facial differences that would make it difficult for my partners to approach me. It was much easier for me to do things solo. During the eighth grade, I moved to North Carolina. North Carolina was like a reset button in my life. I had gotten surgery to fix my face before I moved and there was much more acceptance here. Naturally, I was compelled into joining clubs and volunteering for nonprofit organizations once I reached high school. I had never joined a club before, nor had I ever volunteered. I was pushed way outside of my comfort zone, and as I continued to spend more time out of the house, I became more sociable and cheerful. One particular volunteer job that sticks out to me was a supervising assistant at church. Every summer there would be a weeklong camp for children ages K-5th grade called Vacation Bible School, or VBS. My job was simple; watch over my chosen group of kids (I often chose preschool) and instruct them during the daily activities. I came to find out that I enjoyed working with kids and people my own age. I liked to teach as well. I can be very patient with others, and it was helping me to guide the hearts of little kids. Being able to volunteer for VBS also opened up another avenue for me: a social life. I could not make very many friends when I first moved, as I was often shy and didn’t know how to approach people. Volunteering at my church helped me to get more connected with the teen community. We would spend time together at other people’s houses, volunteer together, and go to church-based camps in the summer. I became more confident and my social skills greatly improved. I noticed that the level of acceptance in North Carolina was especially prevalent because I saw that many people were kind and welcoming toward me, which increased my desire for connection. A year ago, I would not even consider the option of serving my community. Now, thanks to this organization and the support it gave me, I love serving my community, not just because I can learn more about myself, but because I can truly give back to it. I still continue to give to my church, and I hope that I can still learn more and give more. I am no longer the quiet kid in the group project, but the leader that can contribute to it.

“What’s wrong with your face?” “Why do you look like that?” “What’s wrong with you?” When I was born, I was diagnosed with a condition that caused craniofacial differences, which are malformations in the skull. As a result, nearly every day I was asked these questions by random strangers and classmates. I would always curl into myself and reply in a clipped voice, “Nothing is wrong with me,” and denied an explanation. They would then leave me alone and never speak to me again. During the eighth grade, I moved to North Carolina, where I was placed into the care of the Duke Craniofacial Team at Duke University. Most of the medical complications I faced as a child were mostly fixed, so I rarely got to know the team. However, one day, I received a forwarded email from my mother from the leader of the team asking me if I could be a representative for those with craniofacial differences at a sponsored baseball game. I was thrilled to be surrounded by people who knew what it was like to be me. Together we could help spread awareness about people like us. Now, I still work with the team in representing craniofacial differences. I often help with special events where families can come and mingle with us. I also assist in setting up activities for smaller kids, with or without facial deformities. I especially love working with younger kids like me, possibly because I want to be a role model for them. I think that surrounding them with all this support and encouragement will help boost their self-confidence and inspire them to become future advocates. Aside from my family, I did not have much support in terms of my condition, so I hope that I can be a source of strength for kids like me. My differences have left a great impact on how I want to help others. They give me a different perspective on how I see the world and they are a source of motivation. I love serving my community, not just because they can learn more about me, but because people like me can be properly supported and advocated for. I feel great knowing that people can walk away from our events knowing that they too can be equalized and embraced. My current and future goals for college consist of finding ways to bring awareness about the disabled in a dignified way that helps them feel elevated rather than patronized. I am inspired by the organization that I work with that specifically spreads awareness about those with craniofacial differences. My ideal vision is to create an organization or nonprofit consisting of the abled and disabled alike to spread the word about how we should approach those with special needs. I believe that expressing honest perspectives and opinions will help the community to better understand how to create a more equitable and adaptive environment.

“Unmasked” Underneath my mask A golden joy bubbles I need to focus on the task I can’t cause any trouble. Underneath my cold pale cover My face is hot and red If I showed it, people would hover So I keep my anger to myself instead. Underneath my exterior, I quake with fear If I showed it, I would feel inferior So I keep it bottled up in here. Underneath my mask Lies a mournful tearstained face If I showed it, people would ask So I take the pain with grace. What, then, stays outside? What is there to see? Only smiles, sweet words, and lies Things that don't feel like me. My emotions churn and roll inside me Like boiling water in a pot. They scream at me to be let free As I debate whether to or not. The bubbling hot liquid inside me suddenly settles It condenses into a cold hard ball in my chest Far from rattling around me like tea in a kettle It descends like snow in my heart to rest. My mask has become real I bend whichever way I'm told, like wood My emotions don't run around inside me but kneel It doesn't feel as chaotic, but it doesn't feel good. I yearn for my previous passion When I laughed and shouted like in the past I once went through life in a different fashion I yearn to live a life unmasked.

“What’s wrong with your face?” “Why do you look like that?” “What’s wrong with you?” When I was born, I was diagnosed with a condition that caused craniofacial differences, which are malformations in the skull. As a result, nearly every day I was asked these questions by random strangers and classmates. I would always curl into myself and reply in a clipped voice, “Nothing is wrong with me,” and denied an explanation. They would then leave me alone and never speak to me again. Throughout my middle school years, things took a shift. I noticed that people were polite towards me, but seemed uncomfortable like they were afraid of accidentally insulting me Later when I reflected on these experiences, I concluded that the reason I was being isolated was that people knew nothing about my condition. It was probably difficult for others to approach someone with a facial difference, especially if they didn’t want to accidentally offend them. My condition was especially rare; only 1 in every 100,000 kids is born with it. Upon this realization, I took to the habit of explaining my deformity to those who were curious, which helped me make many more friends. During the eighth grade, I moved to North Carolina, where I was placed into the care of the Duke Craniofacial Team at Duke University. Most of the medical complications I faced as a child were mostly fixed, so I rarely got to know the team. However, one day, I received a forwarded email from my mother from the leader of the team asking me if I could be a representative for those with craniofacial differences at a sponsored baseball game. I was thrilled to be surrounded by people who knew what it was like to be me. Together we could help spread awareness about people like us. Now, I still work with the team in representing craniofacial differences. I often help with special events where families can come and mingle with us. I also assist in setting up activities for smaller kids, with or without facial deformities. I especially love working with younger kids like me, possibly because I want to be a role model for them. I think that surrounding them with all this support and encouragement will help boost their self-confidence and inspire them to become future advocates. Aside from my family, I did not have much support in terms of my condition, so I hope that I can be a source of strength for kids like me. In addition to how my organization and I help the craniofacial community, we also assist the other end of the spectrum; that is, those without any problems with their faces. Another representative and I both met at an event where we agreed to work together on how to instruct others on how to best approach us. We have both been unintentionally hurt by people who are trying to be kind to us but end up making us feel patronized or even bullied. We try to teach others how to treat people with facial differences and perhaps even disabled people in general. My differences have left a great impact on how I want to help others. They give me a different perspective on how I see the world and they are a source of motivation. I love serving my community, not just because they can learn more about me, but because people like me can be properly supported and advocated for. I feel great knowing that people can walk away from our events knowing that they too can be equalized and embraced.

“What’s wrong with your face?” “Why do you look like that?” “What’s wrong with you?” When I was born, I was diagnosed with a condition that caused craniofacial differences, which are malformations in the skull. As a result, nearly every day I was asked these questions by random strangers and classmates. I would always curl into myself and reply in a clipped voice, “Nothing is wrong with me,” and denied an explanation. They would then leave me alone and never speak to me again. Throughout my middle school years, things took a shift. I noticed that people were polite towards me, but seemed uncomfortable like they were afraid of accidentally insulting me Later when I reflected on these experiences, I concluded that the reason I was being isolated was that people knew nothing about my condition. It was probably difficult for others to approach someone with a facial difference, especially if they didn’t want to accidentally offend them. My condition was especially rare; only 1 in every 100,000 kids is born with it. Upon this realization, I took to the habit of explaining my deformity to those who were curious, which helped me make many more friends. During the eighth grade, I moved to North Carolina, where I was placed into the care of the Duke Craniofacial Team at Duke University. Most of the medical complications I faced as a child were mostly fixed, so I rarely got to know the team. However, one day, I received a forwarded email from my mother from the leader of the team asking me if I could be a representative for those with craniofacial differences at a sponsored baseball game. I was thrilled to be surrounded by people who knew what it was like to be me. Together we could help spread awareness about people like us. Now, I still work with the team in representing craniofacial differences. I often help with special events where families can come and mingle with us. I also assist in setting up activities for smaller kids, with or without facial deformities. I especially love working with younger kids like me, possibly because I want to be a role model for them. I think that surrounding them with all this support and encouragement will help boost their self-confidence and inspire them to become future advocates. Aside from my family, I did not have much support in terms of my condition, so I hope that I can be a source of strength for kids like me. In addition to how my organization and I help the craniofacial community, we also assist the other end of the spectrum; that is, those without any problems with their faces. Another representative and I both met at an event where we agreed to work together on how to instruct others on how to best approach us. We have both been unintentionally hurt by people who are trying to be kind to us but end up making us feel patronized or even bullied. We try to teach others how to treat people with facial differences and perhaps even disabled people in general. My differences have left a great impact on how I want to help others. They give me a different perspective on how I see the world and they are a source of motivation. I love serving my community, not just because they can learn more about me, but because people like me can be properly supported and advocated for. I feel great knowing that people can walk away from our events knowing that they too can be equalized and embraced.

I don’t want to brag, but I was a very enthusiastic butterfly doctor when I was a kid. Friends from my old daycare would interrupt me while I was reading, poking me feverishly to redirect my attention to whichever butterfly needed my help. I would rush to the insect, assess its condition- and then completely blank out. Living organisms and their bodily functions enthralled me, that was clear. However, 9-year-old me flushed with embarrassment because, for all my big talk, I knew absolutely nothing about butterflies. Fast forward about four years later, my fascination with life had evolved from animals to humans. When I entered seventh grade, I met my first biology teacher, who started to explain to me for the first time how the human body worked. One topic stuck out to me specifically; The genetics unit. A clear reason why each individual is so different from the other. Each set of chromosomes helps define who someone is based on their parents' traits. It’s like a slot machine. The characteristics of the parents are scrambled together until they finally spit out the offspring’s traits. Ding ding! Not only was this an intriguing thought to think about, but it was also something I found to be an answer to my questions about myself. One thing you should know about me is that I am a very lucky recipient of unique genes. I was born with a rare syndrome that caused severe differences in my cranial structure. My eyes bulged out dramatically and I wore a trachea tube because I had difficulty breathing. My condition used to confuse me to no end. I had two younger siblings who were in perfect health. My parents never had any problems with their health either. Why then, was I the only one? Why didn’t I turn out like the rest of my family? The concept of genetics was like an answer to all my questions. With the personal desire to know more about my condition fulfilled, my attention redirected toward others around me. I sympathize with anyone who has gone through difficult times because of an acquired condition. As a result, I want to help answer the questions that people may have about themselves. There are also jobs in genetics that involve gene and stem cell therapy. Thanks to these new additions to technology, we can potentially prevent inherited diseases and even cure cancer. While I know the basics of the genetic lottery system, I still have a lot to learn before I enter the world of medicine. The path for me will be long and arduous. I would need to earn a bachelor's degree, a master’s degree, and an M.D or a D.O. However, I am willing to work hard to achieve my goal. I welcome the opportunity to learn more about myself and the others around me. Each new thing I learn will equip me with the knowledge to properly diagnose and treat people, unlike the butterflies from third grade.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you. Could you please repeat that?” My group partner sighs, and I cringe at her expression. This is the fourth time I’ve asked her to repeat the same statement. We’re in a crowded classroom filled with noisy conversations. Every word she speaks sounds like she is screaming from across a football field. Despite that, I still can’t understand her. When I was born, the doctors told my parents that I would be unable to hear or speak at all. Fortunately, my hearing loss was not as dramatic as they had predicted, but it was still severe. Eventually, I was fitted with my first hearing aid just before I turned 4. The bone-conductive sound processor amplified the minimal sounds I typically registered to what felt like twice the usual volume. When I put my aids on, the first thing that comes to mind is “technology did that.” The history of the hearing aid is fascinating. One of the first hearing devices was nothing more than a small, handheld ear trumpet invented back in the 1700s. Nearly two centuries later, the trumpet had evolved into a set of tubes that turned speech into electrical signals. The set then amplified the signals. From there, it only got better. Over time, inventors created high-speed microprocessors, microcomputers, and, eventually, a fully digital hearing aid. Now, with the arrival of Bluetooth-enabled devices, inventors today continue to improve hearing technology. Hearing aids help me realize how important they and other medical devices are worldwide. The hearing aid has inspired me to join the medical unit so that I may be able to help others using technology. It is also because of its continuing development that I can adjust my aids to “Crowd Settings” and sigh with relief. “I can hear you now.”

Technology is both our superhero and our supervillain. On the one hand, our parents are giving us the stink-eye for using our cell phones at the dinner table, but on the other hand, we are accomplishing breakthroughs every day because of advancing technology. I think it has been one of the most extraordinary things ever happening to us, especially concerning health. From an app that measures blood pressure to an MRI that identifies a tumor in its early stages, technology has dramatically improved our everyday lives. For me, technology has taken the form of a hearing aid. I was born with “craniofacial differences” which are deformities that affect the skull and other facial bones. These differences result in many issues with breathing, digestion, speech, and hearing. When I was born, the doctors told my parents that I would be unable to hear or speak at all. Fortunately, my hearing loss was not as dramatic as they had predicted, but it was still severe. Eventually, I was fitted with my first hearing aid just before I turned 4. Thanks to the bone-conductive sound processor, the minimal sounds I normally registered were amplified to what felt like twice the usual volume. When I put my aids on, I think “technology did that”. The history of the hearing aid is fascinating. One of the first hearing devices was nothing more than a small, handheld ear trumpet invented back in the 1700s. Nearly two centuries later, the trumpet had evolved into a set of tubes that turned the speech into electrical signals, which were then amplified. From there, it only got better. Over time, inventors created high-speed microprocessors, microcomputers, and, eventually, a fully digital hearing aid. Now, with the arrival of Bluetooth-enabled devices, inventors today continue to improve hearing technology. Because of what my hearing aids do for me daily, it has helped me realize how important they and other medical devices are worldwide. It has also inspired me to join the medical unit so that I may be able to help others using technology. So, even though technology may sometimes be a disadvantage, it has proved to be my superhero.

I trembled uncontrollably as a shard of ice settled into my core. Cold sweat drenched my back, and I waited for the other person to join the Zoom call. I glanced at the time. 2:55 pm. Only five more minutes before I engage in my very first job interview. When I was born, I was born with a facial deformity that caused a lot of medical complications. Because of these complications, a nurse always accompanied me wherever I went. I couldn’t even go to the bathroom without the nurse waiting outside the stall. As a result of being coddled like this, I never experienced any kind of independence. Additionally, my facial deformity caused an issue because of how hard it was for kids my age to talk to me. Most people ignored me or stared shamelessly at my strange visage. Finally, after nearly 14 years of this way of living, I let go of the nurses and started living dependently. The most intimidating part was having to try new things all by myself. Because of my little knowledge of the world, I feared I would fail at whatever I tried to do. I shied away from any responsibilities or opportunities handed to me. However, I slowly started to embrace my new life. I was pleasantly surprised to see that the more I tried things out, the more I learned. Furthermore, because of my newly acquired knowledge, I became more confident and sociable. Therefore, I now readily accept any opportunity to learn new things. Trying new things still scares me, but my desire for knowledge and personal growth will push through my fears. That is why, when the interviewer appeared on the screen, prepared to grill me with questions, I looked at her and smiled.