I have always believed that where you come from should not determine where you are capable of going. As a first-generation college student, my education represents more than a degree to me, it represents the opportunity to build on the sacrifices, resilience, and experiences of my family while creating a future of my own. Growing up, I watched my parents create a life for our family while navigating the challenges that come with starting over in a new country. Their willingness to work hard and adapt shaped the way I approach my own goals. I have learned not to take opportunities for granted and, more importantly, not to expect that meaningful accomplishments will come easily. Their example has made me determined to make the most of the opportunities they helped create for me. I am currently pursuing a degree in International Politics on a pre-law track at New York University. I transferred to NYU because I wanted to challenge myself academically and place myself in an environment that would better prepare me for my future. My long-term goal is to attend law school and pursue a career involving advocacy, public service, and international or public-interest law. I want to use my education to give people the confidence and representation that can be difficult to find when navigating complicated systems. Athletics have been an equally important part of developing the discipline I bring to my education. I’ve played soccer for over 10 years, and dedicate significant time to bodybuilding and strength training. Although my academic and athletic pursuits require different skills, they have taught me the same fundamental lesson, and that is that progress comes from consistency. Whether I am preparing for an exam, completing an assignment, stepping onto a soccer field, or pushing through another difficult workout, I have learned the importance of showing up even when I do not immediately see results. Being a student-athlete has also taught me how to balance competing responsibilities. Between academics, athletics, work, and the financial responsibilities of college, I have had to become intentional about how I manage my time and energy. These experiences have made me more independent, resilient, and willing to advocate for myself. My future goal is not simply to become a successful attorney. I want to build a career that allows me to serve others and use the opportunities my parents worked so hard to give me. This scholarship would help me continue pursuing my education at NYU while allowing me to keep developing both academically and athletically. More than financial assistance, it would be an investment in a student who is determined to turn her opportunities into something meaningful.

Being a first-generation student means that I am pursuing a path my family never had the opportunity to walk. It means learning how to navigate college, financial barriers, and a future in law without a blueprint. But more than anything, it means carrying the sacrifices, experiences, and hopes of the generations before me into the opportunities they helped make possible. My desire to pursue law is deeply rooted in my family’s history. My grandfather was a survivor of the Nakba in 1948, carrying with him the experience of displacement and the loss of a home that should have been his. His story has always reminded me that justice is not an abstract concept. It can determine whether a family is protected or displaced, whether a person’s voice is heard or ignored, and whether someone has the ability to rebuild their life with dignity. I do not want my grandfather’s story to exist only as something my family remembers. I want it to shape the person I become. As the first person in my family pursuing a legal education, I hope to build a career advocating for people and communities who find themselves navigating systems that were never designed with them in mind. I am especially drawn to international law, human rights, and public policy because I want to understand how laws shape the lives of people across borders and how those laws can be challenged when they fail to protect human dignity. My journey has not been easy. As I transferred schools to pursue my education, I have faced significant financial obstacles that have threatened my ability to continue at the university I worked so hard to reach. Rather than allowing those obstacles to determine my future, I have searched for scholarships, pursued employment and research opportunities, appealed for additional financial aid, and continued looking for every possible way to make my education possible. I have learned that determination is not always about knowing that you will succeed; sometimes it is simply refusing to stop looking for a way forward. To me, being first-generation means becoming the beginning of something new without forgetting where I came from. My dream is not simply to become a lawyer. It is to become the kind of advocate my family and communities like mine have needed for generations: someone who understands that behind every statute, case, or policy is a human being whose life can be changed by the law. This scholarship would help me continue that journey. More importantly, it would bring me one step closer to turning the history my family inherited into a future I can help shape.

My Palestinian heritage is something I carry. It lives in my family’s stories, in the language I grew up hearing, and in the quiet, persistent awareness that where I come from is tied to both loss and resilience. My grandfather is a survivor of the Nakba of 1948. As a child, he was forced from his home in Yaffa at gunpoint, along with his family, and displaced to Amman, Jordan. They were told their home no longer belonged to them. To this day, he still keeps the deed to that house, written in Arabic, a physical reminder that represents not only what was taken, but what has endured. Growing up with this story shaped my understanding of identity as something deeply tied to history, justice, and memory. Because of this, I have never viewed global issues as distant or theoretical. My Palestinian heritage has instilled in me a strong sense of responsibility to understand the systems that shape conflict, displacement, and inequality. It has also taught me the importance of the dignity of ensuring that people are not reduced to headlines, but are recognized in their full humanity. Educationally, I am pursuing studies in international relations with a focus on diplomacy and global policy. I am particularly interested in how nations can navigate conflict, build cooperation, and create systems that prioritize human rights and equitable representation. My goal is to deepen my understanding of international law, foreign policy, and cross-cultural dialogue so that I can contribute meaningfully to global decision-making spaces. In my career, I aspire to work in diplomacy or within international organizations, where I can advocate for policies that promote justice, peace, and long-term stability. I want to be part of conversations that shape how conflicts are addressed and how marginalized communities are represented. Ultimately, my goal is not only to understand the world as it is, but to help shape it into one where stories like my grandfather’s are not repeated. My Palestinian heritage has given me both a lens and a purpose. It has taught me that identity is not just about where you come from, it is about what you choose to do with that history moving forward.

I am a first-year student at Penn State studying international relations, I am driven by a desire to understand how systems of power, history, and identity shape our world. As a Palestinian-American, my understanding of global politics has never been abstract, it has always been very personal. My career goal is to work in diplomacy or international policy, where I can contribute to advancing justice, peace, and dignity, particularly for communities whose voices are often overlooked in global discourse. My identity is deeply rooted in my family’s history. My grandfather is a survivor of the Nakba of 1948. He was a child when British and Israeli forces forced his family out of their home in Yaffa at gunpoint, telling them it no longer belonged to them. They fled to Amman, Jordan, carrying only what they could. Because my great-grandfather was a pharmacist, they were among the few who had the means to leave safely. To this day, my grandfather still holds the original deed to that house which is written in Arabic, a deep, physical reminder of a life interrupted. That home is now a police station in what is now called Israel. Growing up with this story shaped how I see justice, not necessarily as an abstract principle, but as something denied, something remembered, and something worth pursuing. It has fueled my commitment to studying international relations and has inspired me to pursue a career where I can advocate for equitable policies and meaningful dialogue between nations. Beyond my personal connection to the levant, I have also sought to understand the broader histories of the regions I affiliate with. Algeria’s struggle for independence, particularly the Algerian War of Independence, reflects a powerful legacy of resistance against colonial rule and the pursuit of national self-determination. Similarly, Palestinian history is marked not only by displacement, but by resilience expressed through literature, culture, and political activism. These histories have only reinforced my belief that dignity and self-determination are universal rights. At Penn State, I have found academic growth, but I have also felt the absence of a strong Arab community. This is part of what draws me to New York University, where the presence of an active Arab Student Association represents visibility and the opportunity to engage in meaningful cultural and political dialogue. I anticipate transferring and being in a space where my identity is recognized and shared would empower me to further develop my voice and advocacy. Ultimately, my goal is to bridge divides whether it be cultural, political, or ideological, through a career in international relations. I want to contribute to a world where stories like my grandfather’s are understood as part of a larger call for justice and dignity for all.