I was raised learning early that life does not always distribute opportunity fairly. As a young Black man growing up, I quickly learned that access, support, and representation shape how far someone can see themselves going. My journey to this point has been defined by resilience, learning how to keep going even when I did not feel fully seen, and turning personal struggle into purpose.
My most defining experience began in 7th grade when I developed hidradenitis suppurativa, a chronic skin condition that continued into high school. I did not seek treatment until 8th grade, and by then it had already begun affecting my daily life in ways I could not ignore. The flare ups were painful and unpredictable, sometimes making it difficult to move comfortably or attend school consistently. I missed days of class and even missed important personal milestones, including my 16th birthday. What made it harder was not just the physical pain, but the emotional weight of feeling like my life was being paused while everyone else kept moving forward.
Over time, my condition deeply affected my confidence and mental health. I began isolating myself because I did not want others to see what I was dealing with. I never fully explained it to my friends, so I carried it alone. That silence made the experience heavier, turning something physical into something emotional and internal. It shaped how I saw myself and how I showed up in the world.
In medical spaces, I often felt unheard. Some treatments focused on short-term relief rather than long-term understanding of my condition. I left appointments feeling like my concerns were not fully addressed, which made me question whether I was truly being seen as a patient or just a symptom. That experience made me more aware of how easily Black patients can be overlooked or misunderstood in healthcare systems that are not always built with us in mind.
That changed when I met a Black dermatologist. For the first time, I felt understood without having to over-explain myself. Her presence alone brought comfort because she understood the lived experiences behind my condition. She also emphasized the need for more Black dermatologists, especially Black men, and spoke about Xavier University of Louisiana as a leading institution for producing Black doctors. She continues to mentor me, reminding me to stay focused when I feel like I am not doing enough academically or through involvement. That consistent support has reinforced my belief that representation is not symbolic, it is life changing. It shapes trust, confidence, and whether someone believes they deserve care in the first place.
That experience became the foundation of my purpose. I want to be that same source of comfort and visibility for others. I want young Black boys and girls to see me and believe that they belong in spaces where they are often underrepresented. I want to become a dermatologist who not only treats skin conditions, but understands the emotional and psychological weight that comes with them.
Attending an HBCU, especially Xavier University of Louisiana, means being in a space where I do not have to question whether I belong. As a first-generation college student, this is especially meaningful because I am the first in my family to attend an HBCU. Xavier has given me a sense of identity, pride, and community that I did not always feel before. It is a place where Black excellence is not an exception, but the standard. Being surrounded by professors, mentors, and peers who reflect my background allows me to grow academically while also feeling culturally understood and supported.
To me, attending an HBCU also means legacy. It means walking in the footsteps of those who came before me and preparing to become someone who will open doors for those who come after me. It reminds me that I am not just here for myself, but as part of something larger, a continued effort to increase representation in medicine and leadership.
My commitment to making a difference begins with my family. During my freshman year of college, my mother lost her job, which placed a significant financial strain on us. Through that experience, I learned what it means to stay focused even when stability is uncertain. My goal is to change the financial reality of my family by building a career in medicine that allows me to provide long-term support and security.
Beyond my family, I plan to make a difference in my community by addressing the lack of representation and awareness in healthcare, especially in dermatology. Many skin conditions affecting Black communities are overlooked or under-discussed. I want to change that by becoming a physician who advocates for early care, education, and validation of patient concerns. Through my involvement as a writing tutor at the Writing Resource Center, I already practice this commitment by helping students find confidence in their voice. Many of them struggle with self-doubt, and I understand that feeling. Helping them communicate clearly reminds me that being heard is often the first step toward success.
I also serve on the dermatology e-board in public relations at Xavier University of Louisiana, where I help promote awareness and engagement in dermatology opportunities. This role allows me to contribute to increasing visibility in a field that still lacks diversity while encouraging other students to explore medicine with confidence.
In addition, I have found healing by returning to parts of my life that were impacted by my illness, including swimming without fear and re-engaging in my church community through volunteering and choir.
My journey has not been easy, but it has given me clarity. I want to build a legacy rooted in representation, healing, and trust. I want to become a dermatologist who ensures that no patient feels invisible, unheard, or dismissed the way I once did. This scholarship would not only support my education, but also bring me closer to becoming the kind of physician who changes how people experience healthcare, especially in communities like the one that raised me.