I am pursuing a career in nursing because I believe that healthcare should be accessible and equitable for all, especially for populations who often face systemic barriers to care. Like Kelly, I want to make a lasting impact in the healthcare field. Currently, I aspire to become a critical care nurse upon graduation and later continue my education to become a nurse anesthetist. However, my long-term goal is to help shape policies addressing healthcare disparities to ensure access to quality care for underserved communities. Growing up in rural Maryland, I believed we were the most underserved in healthcare, assuming cities had fewer barriers due to public transit and nearby hospitals. While our community has hardworking and talented healthcare professionals, specialized care isn’t always available, and patients are often forced to travel long distances for treatment. However, I later learned urban areas also face significant healthcare access challenges, including wealth disparities, crime, and systemic neglect. Volunteering in hospitals, I saw firsthand how limited access to specialized care impacts families, and it became clear to me that both rural and urban communities face obstacles to receiving the care they need. This has driven me to pursue a career where I can not only help patients directly, but make impact on a greater scale by working to create systemic changes that reduce healthcare inequities. As a student from a minority background, I also understand the importance of diversity in healthcare. Many patients from underrepresented backgrounds face language barriers, cultural misunderstandings, and systemic inequities in their medical treatment. Too often, they are overlooked. As a nurse, I aim to address these issues by advocating for policies that support diverse needs and ensure equitable care. While there is no "perfect nurse," I hope to be able to apply my education towards real-world patient advocacy and systemic change that supports all patients. To prepare for this path, I have volunteered at local hospitals, working closely with patients and nurses and gaining first hand insight into nursing care. From this, I’ve learned that a nurse must bring not only themselves, but their technical expertise, emotional intelligence, and compassion with them into work every day. Because of this, nurses like Kelly inspire me, and I hope to have such resilience as I enter the workforce and try to make a meaningful difference in healthcare policy. However, pursuing this path comes with financial challenges, as I will need to work throughout college to help cover expenses. This scholarship would help ease the financial burden of pursuing a nursing career and allow me to focus on the training and experience necessary to advocate for equitable healthcare access and policy change in the future. I am committed to using my education to ensure that all patients receive the quality care they deserve, regardless of their circumstances.

In August 2023, I visited Glacier National Park for the first time. Coming from rural Maryland, where the land is mostly flat, I had never experienced anything like the looming mountains of Montana. Each hike on the trip showed me a new side of nature that I had never seen before, but the experience I remember most is the hike to Grinnell Glacier—a hike I never finished. In the park, I hiked to Avalanche Lake, and Hidden Lake, and saw Lake McDonald and the Trail of the Cedars. Every day of our trip had been planned except for our last full day. That morning, my mother and I made a last-minute decision to hike Grinnell Glacier, believing we couldn’t leave without seeing one of the park’s most famous trails. Without much preparation, we packed our backpacks with water, food, bear spray, and hiking sticks before driving to the trailhead, starting the hike later in the afternoon. The Grinnell Trail went smoothly at first. The path climbed steadily, with incredible views, a bright blue lake, and rugged cliffs. Along the way, I saw wildflowers, and cedars, and walked through a waterfall (but saw no mountain goats). As we continued, we started to realize how late it was getting. Even though the hike was ten miles out and back, before we started, we assumed we'd be able to complete the trail in the time we had. After a few hours on the trail, the sun was lowering in the sky, and we found ourselves deep in the mountains with no clear sense of how much farther we had to go. Still, we pushed forward optimistically, telling ourselves, "we’re almost there," even though we had no way of knowing if that was true. We eventually figured out that we had underestimated the time it would take to reach the glacier and return safely before dark. I wanted to keep going, but my mom knew it wasn’t a safe idea. Eventually, we decided to turn around. I was disappointed, knowing that we had come so far on the trail and wouldn’t see Grinnell Glacier, but I agreed with her. Even though we didn't finish Grinnell Trail, I felt so grateful to be able to experience Glacier National Park with my own eyes. On our way back, we ran into a couple that had just returned from the end of the trail, who mentioned they had used AllTrails on all their hikes, an app that tracks a hiker’s location, trail length, and elevation. As beginner hikers, my mother and I had never heard of it. Had we downloaded the app beforehand and planned ahead, we would have started Grinnell earlier, more informed and well-prepared, and possibly have reached the glacier. This experience taught me an important lesson about preparation, quick decision-making, and flexibility. I tend to push myself to complete everything I start, but this hike showed me that sometimes the best choice is to recognize my limits and change course when necessary. It also made me more aware of the importance of being prepared beforehand. Since that trip, I’ve applied this lesson to other areas of my life and learned that being flexible and making informed decisions is just as important as perserverance. Even though I didn’t reach Grinnell Glacier, the experience shaped the way I approach challenges.

From volunteering in a hospital to working as a restaurant host, I’ve learned that making a difference in society isn’t just about extraordinary acts but is also in the little interactions we have every day. Whether assisting nurses at work, advocating for patients, or welcoming diners, I believe that kindness and service are what build the foundation of meaningful change. However, my commitment to service is also shaped by society’s evolving expectations of civic responsibility and collective action. Today's society emphasizes the role and initiative we should take in bettering our communities, whether through leadership, professional work, or volunteering. For example, with the growing recognition of healthcare disparities, there is a societal expectation for healthcare workers to not only provide adequate care but to advocate for systemic improvements as well. This belief has driven my dedication to service: at my local hospital, I assist patients and visitors, ensuring they feel supported during stressful times. I help transport individuals to their destinations, advocate for their needs, and provide comfort in an overwhelming environment. Beyond my volunteering experience, I have also taken on leadership roles in student organizations that focus on promoting inclusivity and civic engagement, principles that have become significantly emphasized in society in recent years. As president of the multicultural club, I create spaces where diverse voices are heard and establish an environment of cultural appreciation within our school. In student government, I help organize initiatives connecting students to service opportunities, to reinforce the idea of collective action within my community and encourage lifetime involvement. In the future, I plan to continue being a positive force by pursuing a career in nursing and health policy advocacy. Social expectations will continue to evolve, but the demand for accessible and equitable healthcare will remain the same. My career goal is to combine patient care with broader efforts to improve healthcare accessibility across large contexts, particularly in underserved communities. By working directly with patients while also advocating for systemic change, I hope to ensure that every individual receives the support and resources they deserve. I’ve learned that service is not defined by a specific title or setting; instead, it is a mindset and a commitment to others, no matter what role I take on. Through my work, both now and in the future, I will continue my commitment to making positive change and ensure that compassion is the heart of everything I do.

Nobody can pronounce my last name. Instead of Xu, it’s “Shoe,” “Zoo,” “Chew,” or even “Achoo.” From an early age, I stopped correcting people. It was exhausting to have the same conversation repeatedly. I heard my last name butchered so much that I even forgot how to pronounce it myself. Every day, I dreaded hearing what new pronunciations someone might invent. Xu was taboo to me—like Voldemort’s curse, where even one utterance draws everyone’s attention. I desperately avoided situations where someone might say it. Still, when my name was mispronounced at an assembly, the crowd fell silent. This, followed by snickers and awkward glances, only reminded me how different I was. From that day, Xu was not just my last name, but the mark of an outsider. As a child, I thought blending in would make life easier. But, having my last name meant standing out—and always coming last. It seemed I had the end of every list personally reserved. I waited hours at ceremonies to be called. Each time a teacher hesitated before saying my name in class, I was confused; I questioned whether I truly belonged where I was so out of place. I wondered if my last name was a mistake or if it was meant to set me apart. I desperately wanted to shed the parts of myself that made me different. I always struggled with my heritage until a connection finally sparked seeing the Chinese character Xu for the first time. As my mother wrote it for me, I realized Xu isn’t just two misplaced English letters people are meant to stumble over, but the surname character 许 my family carries without shame. I felt weak to struggle over something so integral to my identity. So, I wrote my name down repeatedly, determined to memorize it. As I matured, I did shed my self-doubt. I realized my last name was not something to hide, and the very traits I saw as flaws make me unique. So, I embraced my features. Instead of wishing for light hair and blue eyes, I learned to love what made me, me: my coarse black hair and monolids, so different from my classmates' Western features that I once envied. More importantly, I stopped letting insults about my heritage bother me. In letting go of what others thought, I found confidence in who I was becoming instead of holding on to who I wished to be. I want to pursue higher education to honor my parents’ sacrifices in immigrating to the United States. Their journey was difficult, but they endured so I could have opportunities they never had. My pursuit of higher education is not just for myself—it is for them and for everyone who has ever felt out of place because of their heritage. Beyond honoring my past, it is my way to shape the future. I want to use my education to uplift others and advocate for those who feel unseen in the spaces where they rightfully belong. I plan to study nursing and health policy to ensure that cultural identity and background never serve as barriers to care. Through my education, I want to address disparities in the healthcare system, advocate for underserved communities, and provide culturally competent care to patients who, like me, may have once felt like outsiders. My experiences have given me the resilience to embrace myself. Now, I aim to turn that resilience into action, ensuring others do not have to struggle to find acceptance and belonging as I once did.