When I reflect on the most significant experience in my life, it’s my emergency brain surgery at age eleven. That moment changed me—not just physically, but mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. A single sentence from a Black nurse anesthetist—“You won’t feel a thing”—gave me a sense of calm and clarity I had never known. That moment showed me the power of compassionate care and planted the seed for everything I would later become: a future CRNA, an advocate for rare illnesses, and a changemaker inspired by my mother’s resilience and my journey with chronic illness. My emergency brain surgery didn’t just save my life—it gave me a vision for my future. What scared me most wasn’t the surgery itself, but the thought of the breathing tube. I remember the moment that fear disappeared: an African-American nurse anesthetist looked me in the eyes and said, “You won’t feel a thing.” And I didn’t. That moment of trust and representation left a lasting impact. I realized I wanted to become a CRNA—not just to provide expert care, but to offer the same emotional reassurance and hope I was given that day. That one experience continues to shape the way I serve, lead, and advocate today. I founded Women of Woodland (WOW) to empower young women and serve on the HOBY corporate board to cultivate the next generation of leaders. I plan to launch AFI, a nonprofit dedicated to mentorship, scholarships, and expanding healthcare access for underserved students. Through my advocacy work, I support policies like the ICAN Act and raise awareness around rare diseases, working toward a more inclusive and informed healthcare system. Everything I do is a reflection of that life-changing moment in the operating room—a commitment to care, compassion, and change. While the surgery gave me vision, my mother gave me the strength to walk in it. As a single mom battling her own chronic illness, she showed me what real sacrifice looks like. She advocated for me when I couldn’t advocate for myself and taught me how to speak up with courage and love. Her strength carried me through my MCAS diagnosis, a journey that exposed the cracks in our healthcare system. She didn’t just support my healing—she fueled my purpose, and now I carry her strength into every goal I pursue. As Nelson Mandela once said, “What counts in life is not the mere fact that we have lived. It is what difference we have made to the lives of others.” My story began on an operating table, but it’s only just beginning. With every step I take toward becoming a CRNA and a healthcare advocate, I honor the people and experiences that shaped me—and I move forward determined to make a difference in the lives of others.

From curing diseases to combating climate change, STEM careers focus on solving problems. Pharmacologists and cell biologists are some such examples – whether studying how drugs interact with the body, helping to develop safer and more effective medications, or examining the structure and function of cells to understand how the body self- heals, our  future relies on the multi-faceted pathways of STEM.  Diverse representation is essential because it leads to creative problem-solving, challenges systemic biases, and strengthens the quality and impact of decisions across disciplines. Diversity means  the presence of different people and perspectives, and representation ensures differences are authentically included and reflected. Without inclusion and diverse  perspectives, needs go unserved, problems don’t get solved, and ultimately, people suffer. Underrepresented populations in STEM include women and POC, who have fewer opportunities and face more barriers in STEM fields. Despite making up nearly half of the global population, women hold only 26% of STEM jobs in the U.S. and represent just 35% of STEM graduates worldwide, highlighting a major gender disparity. Inclusion is vital for driving innovation, creating viable solutions, and challenging biases in science and technology. POC remain significantly underrepresented in STEM, comprising less than 20% of the U.S. STEM workforce despite accounting for nearly 32% of the overall labor force. Inclusion is crucial for promoting equity, driving innovation, and ensuring that advancements reflect the needs of all communities. Diverse representation in STEM careers is important because underrepresented specializations in STEM, such as medicine, often lack diverse voices, which can lead to blind spots in research, delayed diagnoses, and treatments that don’t fully address the needs of all communities. As a result, real people continue to suffer from preventable or misunderstood conditions simply because no one with their perspective is at the table. I have been personally impacted by a lack of diverse representation in STEM careers. I suffer from Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS),  a chronic condition when the body’s mast cells overreact, releasing chemicals that cause widespread allergic-like symptoms. Living with MCAS has shown me what it’s like when problems go unsolved. Without doctors who look like me and who lack resources due to this specialized illness has caused me and my family to suffer, having to travel across the country, incurring expenses not covered by our medical insurance, to see specialists, and participate in research studies for healing. My MCAS diagnosis marked the beginning of a journey that exposed deep systemic gaps in our healthcare system. I quickly learned that rare illnesses are often overlooked—especially in marginalized communities where access to proper care is already limited. Specialized treatment professionals for rare diseases are few and far between, making it even harder for patients like me to get the care we need. The lack of accessible information and resources left my family and me searching for answers in a system that wasn’t built with us in mind. Diverse representation in STEM careers is so important to me that my mission is to become the voice my mother and I needed. My lived experience fuels my commitment  to reform care systems in the medical practice and in the courtroom through policy. I plan to be a voice for underrepresented patients and push for greater diversity in STEM to ensure rare conditions are better understood and addressed. As a future Certified Registered Nurse Anesthtist (CRNA), I will contribute to groundbreaking research that advances treatment—and one day a cure—for Mast Cell Activation Syndrome. As a healthcare policy lawyer, I will fight for reforms that increase access, equity, and autonomy in care for people with rare and misunderstood conditions.

Pablo Picasso once said, “The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose of life is to give it away.” I am gloriously discovering my newfound gift of service and advocacy. While it was inspired by my own pain and struggles, learning to turn my pain into purpose has been both healing and rewarding. These experiences and the people who guided me through them have also ignited my passion and future career goals. With that passion as my compass, my dream is to become a CRNA and later a health policy advocacy lawyer, combining medical expertise and legal training to address both care and coverage issues. At Spelman College, I plan to major in Health Science and minor in English to build a strong academic foundation for my future law degree. I’ll advocate for legislation that improves access to care for patients with rare diseases and expands practice autonomy for advanced practice nurses to provide care to those in underserved areas. There are limitations in some states, including Georgia, prohibiting CRNAs from practicing independently. I plan to continue to support and strengthen bills like the ICAN Act, which was reintroduced to Congress in 2024. While it has yet to pass despite multiple introductions, its goal—to remove barriers preventing CRNAs and other advanced practice providers from independently providing care—is essential. I also plan to further strengthen initiatives to fight for the coverage of rare diseases. The Affordable Care Act allows coverage under pre-existing conditions but does not necessarily cover the rare disease itself, in the absence of a prior condition. This means a patient who was already covered could possibly be denied coverage if diagnosed with a rare disease (U.S. Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services). There has to be a better solution. To help implement these solutions more directly, my long-term goal is to create systems that allow more people to receive quality care, regardless of their background or diagnosis. To do that, I plan to launch a nonprofit called the Access First Initiative (AFI) to be a centralized hub for all of my goals. AFI will advocate for research, improved practice authority for CRNAs, insurance coverage of rare conditions,in and out-of-state care, and offer education and resources to help families navigate complex illnesses. Grounded in both my personal experience with MCAS and my career goals, AFI will bridge the intersection of equality, policy, and care. My current leadership work already reflects this mission. In 2023, I completed the Youth Leadership Henry Program. It showed me what “It takes a village” truly means. Since then, I have been committed to doing my part. I’m serving my second term as a Youth Representative on Georgia’s Hugh O’Brian Youth Leadership (HOBY) Corporate Board. I led a diversity initiative at the HOBY’s International Conference that resulted in an increase in Black student participation by 130%, Hispanic by 70%, and Multiracial by 20%, thus allowing this international conference to truly represent the world. At my new school, senior year, I founded Women of Woodland (W.O.W.), a girls’ empowerment club that provides support, exposure, and mentorship. We partnered with a local hospital to gain shadowing opportunities in nursing, respiratory and radiology. WOW collaborated with Miss USA to give students access to role models and insight into nontraditional careers. Whether I’m influencing policy, mentoring girls, or providing care—I lead with purpose. Everything I’ve done comes back to one principle: equality, by creating access where there was once a barrier. Just as Picasso said, I’ve found my gift through service and advocacy—and now, I’m committed to giving it away.

Growing up, I attended predominantly white schools from pre-K to 8th grade. I was teased about the texture of my hair and bullied for being cast as Elsa because it was inconceivable that a little black girl could portray a white one. By the time I reached high school, I was well-versed in what it felt like to be part of the marginalized. These experiences left scars and trauma that will take time to heal. In my sophomore year of high school, I was diagnosed with Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS), an incurable disease with few answers. This led to frequent hospital visits and many missed school days due to fainting episodes. It also made me feel marginalized. These experiences serve as the foundation for my empathy and commitment to creating meaningful change for marginalized and underserved communities. I’ve already begun that work through what I call “The Big Three”—two local initiatives and one that expanded internationally. Locally, I served as president of two high school choirs my junior and senior year. I remembered how alone I felt as a freshman entering the choir and saw knew music could build confidence and connection, so I started a choral mentorship program at both schools. I paired experienced singers (Bigs) with beginners (Littles), led vocal workshops, and introduced check-ins focused on personal growth. Over 200 students participated—many stepped into leadership or performed solos for the first time. Some Bigs even reported they learned important lessons from the Littles. It became more than singing—it was about helping each other rise in a harmonious way. I also founded Women of Woodland (W.O.W.), a girls’ empowerment club that helps young women navigate high school and prepare for what’s next. We’ve hosted scholarship workshops, hospital shadowing opportunities for aspiring healthcare professionals, and leadership panels. In just one year, we’ve helped over 50 students take steps toward their goals through mentorship, advocacy, and leadership development. We partnered with local hospitals to give students access to shadowing in departments like nursing, radiology, and respiratory therapy—opportunities normally reserved for those already in healthcare tracks or clubs. W.O.W. was designed to fill a gap in schools where support for first-gen or single-parent students is often lacking. Now, it offers a centralized, focused, and comprehensive network for all, that continues to grow.  Both, statewide and internationally that same spirit of impact shaped my work with Hugh O’Brian Youth Leadership (HOBY), where I am currently serving my second term on the Georgia Corporate Board. In 2023, I was selected to represent my school at HOBY GA. From there, I received a scholarship to represent the state at the World Leadership Congress (HOBY international). While there, I noticed a major lack of racial diversity. I brought the issue to HOBY International’s president and helped launch a yearlong diversity initiative. As a result, Black student participation increased by 130%, Hispanic by 70%, and Multiracial by 20%. More students of color are now part of the international leadership conversations—because we created a path. The Big Three were all situations where I identified opportunities for improvement in different areas of my community, then initiated a plan that created a legacy of solutions. In chorus, I created a program that embraced and mentored new members. With W.O.W., I built the guidance hub I once needed—for girls without a clear path. And through HOBY, I fought for diversity more representative of the world. Through each of these initiatives, I’ve healed little me a bit each time and remain committed to continuing to heal and change the world for the marginalized.

My 2020 experience It was very difficult for me to write this without the overwhelming thought of how minor my issues were in comparison to others' horrific experiences. Most thought 2020 was the worst year and nothing good came out of it. During quarantine, I had a lot of time to reflect on my past and learn more about myself. When I look at the whole year and think about everything that happened to me, there was a lot more good than bad. At the beginning of the year, I was finally happy after not being in the best spot mentally. After March 13th, everything went south, I lost my role as Elsa in the school play, my friends, and left the school I grew up in. At the time, I thought my life was over, but little did I know, it was just beginning. Orignally, I thought acquiring the role was pointless because I would never get to perform, but during that time I grew as a singer. After losing friends that were very important to me for a second time, I had no choice but to learn how to be alone and be ok with my own company. Along with everything else that was going on, because of the growing issues with social injustice, I had to grasp the reality of being black. Every night I cried trying my best to cope with the chaos. When I was done crying, I shifted the focus to college and my future, because it gave me hope and something positive to dwell on. In closing, 2020 has taught me that I can’t control what happens but I can control how I react to it. From now on when something happens I'll try to learn from those situations and shift my focus to making positive changes for myself and those around me. I learned that being black is not easy but it's beautiful. It's ok to be sad, just remember that you'll get through it. I will use all of these things in 2021 whenever things get tough.