Being a first-generation immigrant has shaped almost every part of my educational journey. When I was younger, I didn’t fully understand what it meant. I just knew that school, college, and anything related to “higher education” felt like a world my family wasn’t familiar with. There was no one at home I could ask, “How do I apply for this?” or “What should I do next?” I had to figure most things out myself, and that made me feel like an outsider stepping into something completely new. Even now, I remember how lost I felt during the college application process. While other students could rely on their parents for guidance, I was watching YouTube videos, Googling terms, and trying to teach myself everything. CSS felt like a puzzle. Scholarships felt impossible. And because I didn’t have anyone who had gone through the system before, I always wondered if I was doing things wrong. It’s scary to take steps you’ve never seen anyone in your family take before. But those experiences also pushed me to grow. They made me more independent, more curious, and more determined. Instead of letting the confusion stop me, I kept learning and asking questions. Teachers, mentors, and friends stepped in and helped me when they saw me struggling. They didn’t just explain things — they believed in me. That support made a huge difference, especially when I doubted myself. When I finally entered college, I carried the responsibility of being the first in my family to do it. That pressure is real. You want to make your family proud, and you don’t want to fail. At the same time, you’re trying to adjust to a new environment, face academic challenges, and keep up financially. There were moments I felt overwhelmed, but I kept reminding myself why I started. My background taught me how to push through tough situations without giving up. My experience as a first-generation immigrant is also the reason I’m so passionate about STEM and the future I’m working toward. I want to become a physician-scientist not just because I love research, but because I want to serve communities that don’t always get the support they deserve. I know what it feels like to be overlooked or to feel like you’re behind. I want to help change that — especially for students who come from families like mine. I also want to create more opportunities for young people who feel like outsiders to the system. I want to mentor students, introduce them to STEM early, and show them that they don’t have to have everything figured out to succeed. Sometimes all someone needs is one person who believes in them — the same way people believed in me. My hopes for the future are simple: I want to continue growing, keep breaking barriers, and open doors for other students who share my background. My biggest fear used to be failing, but now I realize that everything I’ve faced has only made me stronger. Being a first-generation immigrant hasn’t held me back — it has given me a story, a purpose, and a reason to keep pushing.

Community has always been a big part of my life, mostly because of how I grew up. I was raised by Deaf parents, so from a young age, I found myself stepping into roles most kids never even think about. I was the interpreter at doctor’s appointments, the one making phone calls, the person explaining things that were happening around us. It wasn’t always easy, but it made me understand something important: people don’t thrive alone. They thrive when someone is willing to stand beside them. Because of that, helping others never felt like a task—it became part of who I am. If I’m given the opportunity, I want to improve my community by creating more support systems for students who come from backgrounds like mine—students who have big dreams but not always the resources, guidance, or confidence to chase them. As a biology and math/physics major who’s heavily involved in research, I see how many people around me are smart and capable but just need someone to say, “Here’s how you get started” or “I believe you can do this.” I want to be that person. One of the biggest things I want to do is start free STEM workshops and mentorship programs for students in high school and college. A lot of young people don’t get real exposure to science until much later, and that lack of early opportunities can make them doubt whether they belong in fields like medicine or research. In these workshops, students could actually touch lab equipment, learn simple experiments, ask questions about college, or even meet people currently working in science. I want them to see careers in STEM as something within their reach—not something reserved for students who already have everything figured out. I also want to build small mentorship circles where students can talk honestly about what they’re struggling with, school, confidence, money, applications, and get real advice from people who’ve been through it. There’s something powerful about hearing “You’re not alone” from someone who truly understands what you’re facing. This matters to me because I didn’t get to where I am by myself. My professors, mentors, and research advisors believed in me long before I fully believed in myself. Their support opened doors, from cancer research opportunities to conference presentations,and helped me grow into the person I am today. I want other students to feel that same support. Improving my community means making sure people have the tools and encouragement they need to reach their goals. It means making the path smoother for the next person coming behind me. That’s why this scholarship isn’t just about my education—it’s about helping me build something that will continue to lift others up.