Essay: Wilmington Raised, Purpose Driven My name is Laila Jabbar-Bey, and I am a proud native of Wilmington, Delaware. From a young age, I’ve always felt connected to this city not just because it’s where I grew up, but because it’s where I learned the value of resilience, representation, and service. Wilmington shaped me, and now I want to give back by creating a life and career rooted in purpose and impact. This fall, I will be attending Pace University in New York City, majoring in biology on the pre-med track. My goal is to become a doctor of endocrinology, focusing on hormonal and metabolic health, particularly in underserved communities. I was drawn to endocrinology not only because of my interest in biology and how the body works, but also because I’ve seen firsthand how conditions like diabetes and thyroid disorders disproportionately affect communities of color, including people right here in Wilmington. I want to be part of the solution not just by treating symptoms, but by educating, advocating, and building trust in the medical field. Growing up, I often found myself in spaces where I was the only Black girl in the room whether in a dance studio or an honors science class. That experience wasn’t always easy, but it taught me to speak up, take up space, and help create environments where others could feel seen and valued too. I served as a leader in my high school’s Black Student Union, where I worked to amplify the voices of underrepresented students and advocate for a more inclusive school culture. I’ve also mentored younger students in STEM, helping them build confidence in their academic abilities. These experiences taught me that true leadership is about lifting others while moving forward yourself. The scholarship funds would help cover the cost of tuition, lab fees, and living expenses in New York City where the cost of college is high, especially for students like me who are balancing academic dreams with financial realities. More importantly, this scholarship would represent an investment in someone who is deeply committed to making a difference not just in her career, but in her community. I want to return to Wilmington one day as a physician, mentor, and advocate. Whether it’s through hosting free health clinics, developing science enrichment programs for students, or simply being a visible role model in medicine, I plan to use my education to create change from the inside out. Wilmington raised me, and I’m ready to represent it well in the world.

Essay: From Stage to Science — A Journey Rooted in Purpose “Mommy, why don’t I look like them?” I asked with quivering lips and a heavy heart. I was just a young Black girl in a dance class, searching for someone anyone who looked like me. That question became a quiet echo in many of the spaces I entered: dance studios, classrooms, leadership meetings, and science labs. It took years for me to realize that instead of searching for spaces that accepted me, I could build them myself. I grew up in predominantly white schools and dance environments where I constantly felt I had to prove that I belonged. I loved dance the freedom, the movement, the storytelling but too often, I felt invisible. In dance, the standards were rarely designed for girls with my skin tone, my hair, or my body type. But I didn’t quit. Instead, I pushed forward and used the art form to express my identity and resilience. That perseverance, born from feeling unseen, became the foundation for how I approach every challenge in my life. At my high school, I joined the Black Student Union and later became a leader. I worked to spotlight Black voices, highlight student talent, and create a space where people felt seen and heard. That same drive to uplift others showed up in my tutoring and mentoring, where I helped students struggling in STEM subjects build confidence and curiosity. One student told me she never thought she was “smart enough” for science until our sessions now she’s excited to take biology in high school. That moment stayed with me. I realized that empowering others is not only what I value it's who I am. Science became my second language, the one that helped me understand the world and myself. I fell in love with biology how organisms adapt, how the human body works, how movement and identity connect through biomechanics. My research project on how social comparison affects Black and white dance majors brought everything full circle. I wasn’t just learning; I was asking questions that mattered to me and my community. I was finding my voice in both the arts and sciences. I plan to major in biology at Pace University with the goal of becoming an endocrinologist. I’m especially interested in addressing diabetes and hormone disorders in underserved communities, where access to care is often limited and information is lacking. I’ve seen firsthand how racial disparities in healthcare impact people I love, and I want to change that. I want to create accessible, culturally informed care that empowers patients, not just treats them. Beyond medicine, I want to continue serving others. I hope to develop mentorship programs for Black students in STEM and create community-based health education initiatives focused on prevention and wellness. I want to use my platform as a doctor not only to heal but to teach, advocate, and inspire. Pace’s biology program, combined with its access to research opportunities, city-based internships, and diverse student body, will help me build the academic foundation I need. But even more importantly, I’ll be surrounded by voices, backgrounds, and perspectives that push me to grow. I know I have something to contribute too my story, my passion, and my purpose. Who I am today is the result of every time I didn’t see myself and chose to stay anyway. I’ve learned how to make room for myself and now, I’m making room for others. My journey is rooted in purpose, and I’m just getting started.

If selected, I would use the scholarship funds to help cover tuition, books, and lab fees for my freshman year at Pace University, where I plan to major in biology on the pre-med track. Many of my required science courses have additional costs for lab materials, online access codes, and equipment. This scholarship would directly support those expenses and allow me to focus more on learning and less on how to afford what I need. I would also use a portion of the funds to help with transportation and living costs in New York City. Moving from Wilmington to a much more expensive city will be a big adjustment, and your support would make that transition smoother. It would give me more freedom to take advantage of internships, service projects, or research opportunities that align with my career goals. Long term, I plan to become an endocrinologist working in underserved communities. I want to combine my passion for science with my commitment to health equity, especially in communities of color that face healthcare disparities. Every bit of financial support helps bring that vision closer to reality. Thank you for considering my application. This scholarship would make a meaningful difference in both my education and the impact I hope to make in the future.

My goal is to become an endocrinologist who doesn’t just treat diseases but helps transform lives, especially in communities that look like mine. I’ve always been fascinated by how the human body works, but when I learned how common diseases like diabetes and thyroid disorders are in the Black community, I realized my interest wasn’t just academic, it was personal. I’ve seen family members struggle with conditions that could have been better managed or even prevented with clearer information, earlier diagnosis, or providers who truly listened. That’s the doctor I want to be, someone who brings both knowledge and understanding into the room. In my future medical career, I want to specialize in community-based healthcare. I see myself working in underserved neighborhoods, running free screenings, and offering education sessions about metabolic health, nutrition, and prevention. But my dream doesn’t stop at being a physician. I also want to mentor young students, especially Black girls, who are interested in STEM but don’t see themselves represented in those fields. I want to create programs where medicine isn’t just something that happens to you at a clinic, but something you understand, ask questions about, and feel empowered by. That’s exactly why increasing racial diversity in healthcare is so important. When patients see doctors who look like them, trust improves. Communication improves. Outcomes improve. Cultural understanding matters, because healthcare isn’t one-size-fits-all. I believe that when there’s diversity in the exam room, there’s more honesty, more comfort, and ultimately, better care. Representation also matters on the other side of the stethoscope. As a young Black woman entering medicine, I know how isolating it can feel to walk into a science class or a research lab and not see anyone who looks like you. That’s why I talk so openly about my journey, both the challenges and the breakthroughs, because I want the next girl who wonders if she’s “smart enough” or “meant to be here” to hear someone say, “Yes. You are.” One of the most impactful moments I’ve had so far was tutoring a younger student who struggled with biology. She told me she had never considered herself good at science. I could see so much of myself in her. I took time to break things down in a way that made sense to her life, her experiences. By the end of our sessions, she told me she wanted to be a doctor one day. That’s when I knew, my path isn’t just about becoming a doctor. It’s about becoming the kind of doctor who inspires others to believe in what’s possible. Racial diversity in healthcare is not a box to check. It’s a necessity. It means saving more lives, catching more conditions early, and creating systems that truly serve everyone. My goal is to be part of that system, a provider, educator, and advocate, who helps make healthcare not just better, but fairer.

Essay Title: Owning My Space, Onstage and Off “Mommy, why don’t I look like them?” That one question, asked with tears in my eyes and confusion in my heart , has followed me through every studio, every stage, and every space where I felt like I didn’t belong. I’m most proud of the achievement that can’t be listed as a single award or title: learning to embrace my identity in spaces that weren’t designed to see me. As a young Black girl in the world of dance, I often felt like an outsider. My hair didn’t bounce like the other girls’ in ballet buns, and the color of my tights never matched my skin. I never saw girls who looked like me in the posters hung on studio walls, or in the stories we were taught to emulate. But instead of shrinking, I began to take up space. Finding a studio that accepted me for who I am was the first step. But my real growth happened when I walked into my predominantly white high school. Once again, I was one of the only Black girls in the room, but this time, I didn’t wait for someone else to create a space for me. I joined the Black Student Union, and eventually became a leader. We hosted open discussions, talent showcases, and cultural awareness events. I worked hard to make sure Black students at my school didn’t just exist quietly in the background, but were seen, celebrated, and heard. This experience impacted me far beyond the classroom. It helped me realize that I don’t have to fit into anyone else's mold. I can merge my love for dance with my love for science. Biology, specifically human anatomy and endocrinology, captured my attention because it helped me understand movement in a new way. I even created a research project on how social comparison impacts the confidence of Black and white dance majors , combining science, identity, and art in one study. My future plans reflect this journey. At Pace University, I’ll be majoring in biology with the goal of becoming an endocrinologist. I want to make healthcare more accessible, especially for communities of color that are often overlooked. I also want to continue mentoring young Black girls in dance and STEM, helping them see that they don’t have to choose between their passions , and that they’re not alone. The little girl who once asked why she looked different has grown into a young woman who now knows: my difference is my strength. I’m proud of learning to own my story, and prouder still of how I’ve helped others feel seen along the way.