My mother tells my birth story to people like it’s a fascinating tale of overcoming disaster. She didn’t even know that she was carrying me, only six weeks after she had given birth to my older brother. I was undetectable for months in her womb. By the time she realized she was expecting me, I was about six months from being born. And then came the frightening diagnosis…..cysts on my brain, a possible abnormality, and the question of whether to keep or quit the pregnancy. In the end, her decision to keep me meant she lived in crisis mode for the rest of the time she carried me, and survived only on what hope can give. I was born in November, almost seven weeks ahead of my due date. Medical staff told my mother I could go home with her the next day, but she thought it was too soon. I was small enough to fit in her right hand, but strong enough that I grew quickly and healthily. What I really like about how my mother tells the rest of my story is that I met many milestones ahead of my time. I potty trained at one-years-old; I stood up and ran before I took my first baby step; and from that moment on, I seemed to do everything in a cycle of time that seemed “too soon.” Lately, when I ask her to tell me what it all means, she says that I don’t wait for things to come to me, that I am ahead of my time because my purpose is to get back everything that was ever denied to those that came before me. When she looks me in the eyes, she means it when she says that I will be the cursebreaker. While there doesn’t seem to be any curse in my family, per se, there are patterns. One of the patterns I notice is that both of my grandmothers were strong and mighty women, raised with morals and values of parents from the deep South. They both grew up in major U.S. cities after their parents migrated, one to Chicago and one to Los Angeles. Both of their stories include an early marriage and parenthood. They were both fixtures in their communities, taking care of neighborhood children with misfortunes. They were both top chefs in their kitchens. But sadly, neither of them had a chance to live to see me grow after they battled and succumbed to cancer. Neither of my grandmothers lived to see past 60 years of age. Two beautiful lives gone too soon. I think there is a special point where all of our stories come together. Today, I am only 17 years old, but I have a purpose and a passion to help advance radiologic science aided by technology to improve early detection and monitoring against cancer and disease. What medical detection did not get right for me at birth or did not detect until it was too late for my grandmothers, I hope to get right for others. The stories of women who are terminally misdiagnosed or uncarefully treated is not new, but they are ravaging. I plan to pursue a lengthier program that will allow a full range of certifications and open a pathway to research in this field. The story of my birth, once marked by hopelessness, now serves as a badge of resilience. For all the steps that women before me could not take, including my grandmothers, I hope to stand up and run towards progress in medical science.

From the moment I handed out my first meal at the local food bank, I knew I wanted to make a difference in the world. That simple act of kindness opened my eyes to the struggles faced by so many in my community and inspired me to pursue a path where I could create lasting change. This is why my academic and professional goals are deeply rooted in social justice and community development. My primary academic goal is to earn a degree in social work. I believe that understanding the complexities of social systems and gaining the skills to navigate them is crucial for making a meaningful impact. Throughout high school, I volunteered with various organizations, including shelters, youth programs, and advocacy groups. These experiences have not only solidified my passion for social work but also provided me with practical skills and insights that I can build upon in my studies. For instance, while working with a youth mentorship program, I learned the importance of active listening and empathy, skills that are essential for any social worker. Professionally, I aspire to work with non-profit organizations that focus on supporting marginalized communities. I am particularly interested in programs that address issues such as homelessness, mental health, and education. One of my long-term goals is to establish a community center that offers comprehensive services, including job training, counseling, and educational workshops. By providing these resources, I hope to empower individuals to overcome their challenges and build better futures for themselves and their families. Giving back to my community has always been a significant part of my life. In high school, I organized several fundraisers and awareness campaigns for various causes, from mental health to environmental sustainability. One of the most impactful projects I led was a clothing drive for a local shelter. Seeing the gratitude on the faces of those who received the donations was incredibly rewarding and reinforced my commitment to serving others. These experiences have taught me that even small actions can have a profound impact, and they have inspired me to continue finding ways to contribute to my community. My community involvement has not only shaped my goals but also inspired me to make a difference on a larger scale. I have seen firsthand the power of collective action and the positive changes it can bring. This inspiration drives me to pursue a career where I can advocate for policies that promote equity and justice. I am particularly passionate about addressing systemic issues that perpetuate inequality, such as inadequate access to education and healthcare. By working to dismantle these barriers, I hope to create a more just and inclusive society. In conclusion, my academic and professional goals are deeply intertwined with my desire to give back to my community and make a difference in the world. My experiences have shown me the importance of empathy, advocacy, and collective action. As I pursue my degree in social work and embark on my professional journey, I am committed to using my skills and knowledge to create positive change. I believe that by addressing the root causes of social issues and empowering individuals, we can build stronger, more resilient communities.

My mother tells my birth story to people like it’s a fascinating tale of overcoming disaster. She didn’t even know that she was carrying me, only six weeks after she had given birth to my older brother. I was undetectable for months in her womb. By the time she realized she was expecting me, I was about six months from being born. And then came the frightening diagnosis…..cysts on my brain, a possible abnormality, and the question of whether to keep or quit the pregnancy. In the end, her decision to keep me meant she lived in crisis mode for the rest of the time she carried me, and survived only on what hope can give. I was born in November, almost seven weeks ahead of my due date. Medical staff told my mother I could go home with her the next day, but she thought it was too soon. I was small enough to fit in her right hand, but strong enough that I grew quickly and healthily. What I really like about how my mother tells the rest of my story is that I met many milestones ahead of my time. I potty trained at one-years-old; I stood up and ran before I took my first baby step; and from that moment on, I seemed to do everything in a cycle of time that seemed “too soon.” Lately, when I ask her to tell me what it all means, she says that I don’t wait for things to come to me, that I am ahead of my time because my purpose is to get back everything that was ever denied to those that came before me. When she looks me in the eyes, she means it when she says that I will be the curse breaker. While there doesn’t seem to be any curse in my family, per se, there are patterns. One of the patterns I notice is that both of my grandmothers were strong and mighty women, raised with morals and values of parents from the deep South. They both grew up in major U.S. cities after their parents migrated, one to Chicago and one to Los Angeles. Both of their stories include an early marriage and parenthood. They were both fixtures in their communities, taking care of neighborhood children with misfortunes. They were both top chefs in their kitchens. But sadly, neither of them had a chance to live to see me grow after they battled and succumbed to cancer. Neither of my grandmothers lived to see past 60 years of age. Two beautiful lives gone too soon. I think there is a special point where all of our stories come together. Today, I am only 17 years old, but I have a purpose and a passion to help advance radiologic science aided by technology to improve early detection and monitoring against cancer and disease. What medical detection did not get right for me at birth or did not detect until it was too late for my grandmothers, I hope to get right for others. The stories of women who are terminally misdiagnosed or uncarefully treated is not new, but they are ravaging. I plan to pursue a lengthier program that will allow a full range of certifications and open a pathway to research in this field.The story of my birth, once marked by hopelessness, now serves as a badge of resilience. For all the steps that women before me could not take, including my grandmothers, I hope to stand up and run towards progress in medical science.

The blood, sweat, tears, perseverance, and the lifelong friendships that come from being a student-athlete are what make it all worth it. The early morning workouts, late-night study sessions, the exhaustion after giving everything on the field, and the satisfaction of seeing hard work pay off—these moments define me. As a multi-sport athlete in track and field, flag football, and cheerleading, I have learned discipline, resilience, and balance. But beyond the medals, what I love most about being a student-athlete is how my sports have shaped me into a stronger, more determined person. Track and field was the first sport that changed my life. I fell in love with running because it took my home life problems away. When I step onto the track, everything else fades. Sprinting the 100-meter, 200-meter, and 400-meter races isn’t just about speed—it’s about pushing past pain, breaking mental barriers, and proving to myself that I am stronger than my circumstances. The track has been my sanctuary, a place where I turn struggle into power. Every race is an opportunity to test my limits, fight through fatigue, and remind myself that no matter what challenges come my way, I have the strength to overcome them. Football has given me another space to grow. As a running back in flag football, I’ve learned quick decision-making, teamwork, and resilience. Unlike the straight sprints of track, football requires agility, strategy, and adaptability. The feeling of dodging defenders, cutting through gaps, and pushing forward despite the odds fuels my competitive spirit. In a sport where female athletes often have to fight for respect, I take pride in showing that I belong on the field just as much as anyone else. Football has made me fearless—it has taught me to take hits and keep moving, both literally and figuratively. Cheerleading, however, has given me a different kind of strength—the ability to uplift, inspire, and lead. As a National All-American All-Star cheerleader, I know firsthand the discipline, teamwork, and precision it takes to succeed. Cheer is more than just smiles and routines—it’s hours of practice, perfecting stunts, pushing through pain, and performing under pressure. There’s no greater feeling than nailing a routine after months of preparation, knowing that every ounce of effort was worth it. Cheer has taught me leadership as I mentor younger athletes, instilling confidence in them just as my mentors did for me. What I love most about being a student-athlete isn’t just the thrill of competition—it’s the way my sports have helped me succeed in other areas of life, especially in the classroom. Juggling three sports while taking Honors and AP classes since my sophomore year hasn’t been easy, but the discipline and time management skills I’ve developed through athletics have allowed me to tackle my studies with the same determination. Whether it’s preparing for a big game or an AP exam, I know that success is built on preparation, consistency, and pushing past challenges. At the core of it all, being a student-athlete has given me resilience, purpose, and a family in my teammates. The friendships formed through struggles, the lessons learned through victories and defeats, and the unbreakable mindset I’ve developed will stay with me forever. Every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears has been worth it because sports have made me who I am—strong, determined, and ready for whatever comes next.