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Hobbies and interests
Anatomy
Biology
Business And Entrepreneurship
Concerts
Dance
Gaming
Reading
Women's Fiction
Science Fiction
Young Adult
Action
Adventure
Suspense
I read books multiple times per month
MS Grace
715
Bold Points1x
Finalist![user profile avatar](https://static.bold.org/profilePictures/028a4265f0c06312d2ce4e378c2c31b27cdad405.webp)
MS Grace
715
Bold Points1x
FinalistBio
I live with Sickle Cell disease. I have gone to great lengths to hide my sickle cell from my peers, fearing they would label me as the “sick kid.” The pain robbed me of my ability to think. I did everything possible to appear “normal.” Despite the unpredictability of sickle cell, I persevered. Many days, I completed homework assignments from a hospital bed. From this, I learned that obstacles are real, but my resilience is stronger. My future lies in public health and administration. I want to be a nurse practitioner to ensure patients don’t just get the medicines they require but to influence policy and research underrepresented diseases like sickle cell. I strive to marry my experience as a patient and advocate. Earning a college degree is the first step in making this plan a reality. Studying health sciences will allow me to strengthen my knowledge across a diverse field and decide where my abilities would make the most impact.
Education
Brookline High
High SchoolMiscellaneous
Desired degree level:
Bachelor's degree program
Majors of interest:
- Health Professions Education, Ethics, and Humanities
- Health Professions and Related Clinical Sciences, Other
- Human Biology
Career
Dream career field:
Hospital & Health Care
Dream career goals:
Administrative, Voting Campaign
Town Hall, Brookline Ma2024 – Present8 monthsProducer, Video composer, Editor, Scriptwriter, and Interviewer for the Intergenerational Digital Storytelling Project
Steps to Success Brookline2019 – 20223 years
Sports
Dancing
Club2022 – 20242 years
Research
Allied Health Diagnostic, Intervention, and Treatment Professions
Boston Children's Hospital Hematology & Oncology Clinical Study Unit — Sickle Cell and Genetic Disease Surveyor, Clinical Trial participant2019 – 2022
Arts
Originations Cultural Arts Center
Dance2014 – 2020Brookline High, Cantico Dance Club
Dance2022 – 2024
Public services
Public Service (Politics)
Jack and Jill of America Inc. Boston Chapter — Delegate, Legislative Chair2023 – 2024Advocacy
Wear A Mask Campaign — volunteer actor and script writer2021 – 2021Volunteering
Pine Street Shelter — Chop-A-Thon and food service at one of New England’s leading provider in services to end homelessness.2021 – 2023
Future Interests
Advocacy
Politics
Volunteering
Philanthropy
Entrepreneurship
Christian E. Vines Scholarship
On the flight back from DC, I couldn't keep my suffering private. I had already missed a day of events because of the pain I was in. At least I was able to explain that away. This was different! I had always kept my health challenges between me and those closest to me. However, when the familiar sensation of shards of glass coursing through my body started on this flight, there was no way to keep quiet. There were no warning signs or place to run to this time when my red blood cells planned a mutiny. As the plane was making its descent, I felt the bolt of pain rising up my leg, to my back, and within minutes, spreading across my body. My seat neighbor, a classmate, sensed my discomfort. She turned to me with a look between terror and sympathy. Unsure of what to do, she asked if she should get my mom, and I struggled to get out a "yes." When my mother arrived, my screams of pain drowned out even the cries of the infant on board, much to the annoyance of the other passengers. A wheelchair was waiting to take me to the emergency room when we landed. My most public and excruciating sickle cell attack changed everything for me.
I hid my sickle cell from my peers, fearing they'd label me as the "sick kid." My friends helped me conceal my condition, and my teachers knew only the basics. I never let them see me in pain, striving to appear "normal" despite my body's betrayals. I knew my suffering made others uncomfortable, so I chose to hide rather than be a spectacle. I was determined to persist.
Sickle cell brings unpredictability; it hasn't deterred me from trying to be in control. It affects my health, not my desire to excel academically and to seek normalcy. I cherish every healthy moment and push through even when unwell, often completing assignments from a hospital bed. I've realized that obstacles are natural, but my resilience is stronger. I've built a supportive network of healthcare professionals, peers, and teachers and learned to manage my triggers. I've also recognized the importance of universal access to quality healthcare.
Living in Boston, a city with world-class hospitals, and having insurance access to these facilities has allowed me to understand my body better manage and avoid crises. This knowledge comes from the excellent team of doctors supporting me. However, I realize that not everyone has this access. Many people suffering from the same condition don't receive proper care. I'm committed to pursuing a career that addresses disparities in healthcare access.
I am currently learning about the public health field and figuring out the best way to contribute meaningfully to care and health. I aim to combine my personal experiences as a patient and advocate in this journey. I know my future lies in public health and administration. I want to ensure patients get not only the medicines they require but also someone who sees and cares about them. I've witnessed many people suffer because of bias and ignorance, and I refuse to contribute to the inequalities they face. I will strive to better my understanding of people's individuality and cater to their physical and emotional needs. Earning a college degree is the first step in making this plan a reality.
I look forward to studying health sciences and nursing at an HBCU, and I am confident that this will allow me to strengthen my knowledge across a diverse field of study and decide where my abilities would make the most impact.
Zamora Borose Goodwill Scholarship
On the flight back from DC, I couldn't keep my suffering private. I had already missed a day of events because of the pain I was in. At least I was able to explain that away. This was different! I had always kept my health challenges between me and those closest to me. However, when the familiar sensation of shards of glass coursing through my body started on this flight, there was no way to keep quiet. There were no warning signs or place to run to this time when my red blood cells planned a mutiny. As the plane was making its descent, I felt the bolt of pain rising up my leg, to my back, and within minutes, spreading across my body. My seat neighbor, a classmate, sensed my discomfort. She turned to me with a look between terror and sympathy. Unsure of what to do, she asked if she should get my mom, and I struggled to get out a "yes." When my mother arrived, my screams of pain drowned out even the cries of the infant on board, much to the annoyance of the other passengers. A wheelchair was waiting to take me to the emergency room when we landed. My most public and excruciating sickle cell attack changed everything for me.
I hid my sickle cell from my peers, fearing they'd label me as the "sick kid." My friends helped me conceal my condition, and my teachers knew only the basics. I never let them see me in pain, striving to appear "normal" despite my body's betrayals. I knew my suffering made others uncomfortable, so I chose to hide rather than be a spectacle. I was determined to persist.
Sickle cell brings unpredictability; it hasn't deterred me from trying to be in control. It affects my health, not my desire to excel academically and to seek normalcy. I cherish every healthy moment and push through even when unwell, often completing assignments from a hospital bed. I've realized that obstacles are natural, but my resilience is stronger. I've built a supportive network of healthcare professionals, peers, and teachers and learned to manage my triggers. I've also recognized the importance of universal access to quality healthcare.
Living in Boston, a city with world-class hospitals, and having insurance access to these facilities has allowed me to understand my body better manage and avoid crises. This knowledge comes from the excellent team of doctors supporting me. However, I realize that not everyone has this access. Many people suffering from the same condition don't receive proper care. I'm committed to pursuing a career that addresses disparities in healthcare access.
I am currently learning about the public health field and figuring out the best way to contribute meaningfully to care and health. I aim to combine my personal experiences as a patient and advocate in this journey. I know my future lies in public health and administration. I want to ensure patients get not only the medicines they require but also someone who sees and cares about them. I've witnessed many people suffer because of bias and ignorance, and I refuse to contribute to the inequalities they face. I will strive to better my understanding of people's individuality and cater to their physical and emotional needs. Earning a college degree is the first step in making this plan a reality.
I look forward to studying health sciences and nursing at an HBCU, and I am confident that this will allow me to strengthen my knowledge across a diverse field of study and decide where my abilities would make the most impact.
Julia Elizabeth Legacy Scholarship
On the flight back from DC, I couldn't keep my suffering private. I had already missed a day of events because of the pain I was in. At least I was able to explain that away. This was different! I had always kept my health challenges between me and those closest to me. However, when the familiar sensation of shards of glass coursing through my body started on this flight, there was no way to keep quiet. There were no warning signs or place to run to this time when my red blood cells planned a mutiny. As the plane was making its descent, I felt the bolt of pain rising up my leg, to my back, and within minutes, spreading across my body. My seat neighbor, a classmate, sensed my discomfort. She turned to me with a look between terror and sympathy. Unsure of what to do, she asked if she should get my mom, and I struggled to get out a "yes." When my mother arrived, my screams of pain drowned out even the cries of the infant on board, much to the annoyance of the other passengers. A wheelchair was waiting to take me to the emergency room when we landed. My most public and excruciating sickle cell attack changed everything for me.
I hid my sickle cell from my peers, fearing they'd label me as the "sick kid." My friends helped me conceal my condition, and my teachers knew only the basics. I never let them see me in pain, striving to appear "normal" despite my body's betrayals. I knew my suffering made others uncomfortable, so I chose to hide rather than be a spectacle. I was determined to persist.
Sickle cell brings unpredictability; it hasn't deterred me from trying to be in control. It affects my health, not my desire to excel academically and to seek normalcy. I cherish every healthy moment and push through even when unwell, often completing assignments from a hospital bed. I've realized that obstacles are natural, but my resilience is stronger. I've built a supportive network of healthcare professionals, peers, and teachers and learned to manage my triggers. I've also recognized the importance of universal access to quality healthcare.
Living in Boston, a city with world-class hospitals, and having insurance access to these facilities has allowed me to understand my body better manage and avoid crises. This knowledge comes from the excellent team of doctors supporting me. However, I realize that not everyone has this access. Many people suffering from the same condition don't receive proper care. I'm committed to pursuing a career that addresses disparities in healthcare access.
I am currently learning about the public health field and figuring out the best way to contribute meaningfully to care and health. I aim to combine my personal experiences as a patient and advocate in this journey. I know my future lies in public health and administration. I want to ensure patients get not only the medicines they require but also someone who sees and cares about them. I've witnessed many people suffer because of bias and ignorance, and I refuse to contribute to the inequalities they face. I will strive to better my understanding of people's individuality and cater to their physical and emotional needs. Earning a college degree is the first step in making this plan a reality.
I look forward to studying health sciences and nursing at an HBCU, and I am confident that this will allow me to strengthen my knowledge across a diverse field of study and decide where my abilities would make the most impact.
Eleven Scholarship
On the flight back from DC, I couldn't keep my suffering private. I had already missed a day of events because of the pain I was in. At least I was able to explain that away. This was different! I had always kept my health challenges between me and those closest to me. However, when the familiar sensation of shards of glass coursing through my body started on this flight, there was no way to keep quiet. There were no warning signs or place to run to this time when my red blood cells planned a mutiny. As the plane was making its descent, I felt the bolt of pain rising up my leg, to my back, and within minutes, spreading across my body. My seat neighbor, a classmate, sensed my discomfort. She turned to me with a look between terror and sympathy. Unsure of what to do, she asked if she should get my mom, and I struggled to get out a "yes." When my mother arrived, my screams of pain drowned out even the cries of the infant on board, much to the annoyance of the other passengers. A wheelchair was waiting to take me to the emergency room when we landed. My most public and excruciating sickle cell attack changed everything for me.
I hid my sickle cell from my peers, fearing they'd label me as the "sick kid." My friends helped me conceal my condition, and my teachers knew only the basics. I never let them see me in pain, striving to appear "normal" despite my body's betrayals. I knew my suffering made others uncomfortable, so I chose to hide rather than be a spectacle. I was determined to persist.
Sickle cell brings unpredictability; it hasn't deterred me from trying to be in control. It affects my health, not my desire to excel academically and to seek normalcy. I cherish every healthy moment and push through even when unwell, often completing assignments from a hospital bed. I've realized that obstacles are natural, but my resilience is stronger. I've built a supportive network of healthcare professionals, peers, and teachers and learned to manage my triggers. I've also recognized the importance of universal access to quality healthcare.
Living in Boston, a city with world-class hospitals, and having insurance access to these facilities has allowed me to understand my body better manage and avoid crises. This knowledge comes from the excellent team of doctors supporting me. However, I realize that not everyone has this access. Many people suffering from the same condition don't receive proper care. I'm committed to pursuing a career that addresses disparities in healthcare access.
I am currently learning about the public health field and figuring out the best way to contribute meaningfully to care and health. I aim to combine my personal experiences as a patient and advocate in this journey. I know my future lies in public health and administration. I want to ensure patients get not only the medicines they require but also someone who sees and cares about them. I've witnessed many people suffer because of bias and ignorance, and I refuse to contribute to the inequalities they face. I will strive to better my understanding of people's individuality and cater to their physical and emotional needs. Earning a college degree is the first step in making this plan a reality.
I look forward to studying health sciences and nursing at an HBCU, and I am confident that this will allow me to strengthen my knowledge across a diverse field of study and decide where my abilities would make the most impact.
HeavenCent Scholarship
On the flight back from DC, I couldn't keep my suffering private. I had already missed a day of events because of the pain I was in. At least I was able to explain that away. This was different! I had always kept my health challenges between me and those closest to me. However, when the familiar sensation of shards of glass coursing through my body started on this flight, there was no way to keep quiet. There were no warning signs or place to run to this time when my red blood cells planned a mutiny. As the plane was making its descent, I felt the bolt of pain rising up my leg, to my back, and within minutes, spreading across my body. My seat neighbor, a classmate, sensed my discomfort. She turned to me with a look between terror and sympathy. Unsure of what to do, she asked if she should get my mom, and I struggled to get out a "yes." When my mother arrived, my screams of pain drowned out even the cries of the infant on board, much to the annoyance of the other passengers. A wheelchair was waiting to take me to the emergency room when we landed. My most public and excruciating sickle cell attack changed everything for me.
I hid my sickle cell from my peers, fearing they'd label me as the "sick kid." My friends helped me conceal my condition, and my teachers knew only the basics. I never let them see me in pain, striving to appear "normal" despite my body's betrayals. I knew my suffering made others uncomfortable, so I chose to hide rather than be a spectacle. I was determined to persist.
Sickle cell brings unpredictability; it hasn't deterred me from trying to be in control. It affects my health, not my desire to excel academically and to seek normalcy. I cherish every healthy moment and push through even when unwell, often completing assignments from a hospital bed. I've realized that obstacles are natural, but my resilience is stronger. I've built a supportive network of healthcare professionals, peers, and teachers and learned to manage my triggers. I've also recognized the importance of universal access to quality healthcare.
Living in Boston, a city with world-class hospitals, and having insurance access to these facilities has allowed me to understand my body better manage and avoid crises. This knowledge comes from the excellent team of doctors supporting me. However, I realize that not everyone has this access. Many people suffering from the same condition don't receive proper care. I'm committed to pursuing a career that addresses disparities in healthcare access.
I am currently learning about the public health field and figuring out the best way to contribute meaningfully to care and health. I aim to combine my personal experiences as a patient and advocate in this journey. I know my future lies in public health and administration. I want to ensure patients get not only the medicines they require but also someone who sees and cares about them. I've witnessed many people suffer because of bias and ignorance, and I refuse to contribute to the inequalities they face. I will strive to better my understanding of people's individuality and cater to their physical and emotional needs. Earning a college degree is the first step in making this plan a reality.
I look forward to studying health sciences and nursing at an HBCU, and I am confident that this will allow me to strengthen my knowledge across a diverse field of study and decide where my abilities would make the most impact.
Sloane Stephens Doc & Glo Scholarship
On the flight back from DC, I couldn't keep my suffering private. I already missed a day of events because of the pain I was in. At least I was able to explain that away. But this was different. I had always kept my health challenges between me and those closest to me. However, when the familiar sensation of shards of glass coursing through my body started on this flight, there was no way to keep quiet. There were no warning signs or place to run to this time when my red blood cells planned a mutiny. As the plane was making its descent, I felt the bolt of pain rising up my leg, to my back, and within minutes, spreading across my body. My seat neighbor, a classmate, sensed my discomfort. She turned to me with a look between terror and sympathy. Unsure of what to do, she asked if she should get my mom, and I struggled to get out a "yes." When my mother arrived, my screams of pain drowned out even the cries of the infant on board, much to the annoyance of the other passengers. A wheelchair was waiting to take me to the emergency room when we landed. My most public and excruciating sickle cell attack changed everything for me.
I hid my sickle cell from my peers, fearing they'd label me as the "sick kid." My friends helped me conceal my condition, and my teachers knew only the basics. I never let them see me in pain, striving to appear "normal" despite my body's betrayals. I knew my suffering made others uncomfortable, so I chose to hide rather than be a spectacle. I was determined to persist.
Sickle cell brings unpredictability; it hasn't deterred me from trying to be in control. It affects my health, not my desire to excel academically and to seek normalcy. I cherish every healthy moment and push through even when unwell, often completing assignments from a hospital bed. I've realized that obstacles are natural, but my resilience is stronger. I've built a supportive network of healthcare professionals, peers, and teachers and learned to manage my triggers. I've also recognized the importance of universal access to quality healthcare.
Living in Boston, a city with world-class hospitals, and having insurance access to these facilities has allowed me to understand my body better manage and avoid crises. This knowledge comes from the excellent team of doctors supporting me. However, I realize that not everyone has this access. Many people suffering from the same condition don't receive proper care. I'm committed to pursuing a career that addresses disparities in healthcare access.
I am currently learning about the public health field and figuring out the best way to contribute meaningfully to care and health. I aim to combine my personal experiences as a patient and advocate in this journey. I know my future lies in public health and administration. I want to ensure patients get not only the medicines they require but also someone who sees and cares about them. I've witnessed many people suffer because of bias and ignorance, and I refuse to contribute to the inequalities they face. I will strive to better my understanding of people's individuality and cater to their physical and emotional needs. Earning a college degree is the first step in making this plan a reality.
I look forward to studying health sciences and nursing at an HBCU, and I am confident that this will allow me to strengthen my knowledge across a diverse field of study and decide where my abilities would make the most impact.
Maxwell Tuan Nguyen Memorial Scholarship
On the flight back from DC, I couldn't keep my suffering private. I had already missed a day of events because of the pain I was in. At least I was able to explain that away. But this was different. I had always kept my health challenges between me and those closest to me. However, when the familiar sensation of shards of glass coursing through my body started on this flight, there was no way to keep quiet. This time, there were no warning signs or place to run to when my red blood cells planned a mutiny. As the plane was making its descent, I felt the bolt of pain rising up my leg, to my back, and within minutes, spreading across my body. My seat neighbor, a classmate, sensed my discomfort. She turned to me with a look between terror and sympathy. Unsure of what to do, she asked if she should get my mom, and I struggled to get out a “yes.” When my mother arrived, my screams of pain drowned out even the cries of the infant on board, much to the annoyance of the other passengers. A wheelchair was waiting to take me to the emergency room when we landed. My most public and excruciating sickle cell attack changed everything for me.
I hid my sickle cell from my peers, fearing they’d label me as the “sick kid.” My friends helped me conceal my condition, and my teachers knew only the basics. I never let them see me in pain, striving to appear “normal” despite my body’s betrayals. I knew my suffering made others uncomfortable, so I chose to hide rather than be a spectacle. I was determined to persist.
Sickle cell brings unpredictability; it hasn’t deterred me from trying to be in control. It affects my health, not my desire to excel academically and to seek normalcy. I cherish every healthy moment and push through even when I’m unwell, often completing assignments from a hospital bed. I’ve realized that obstacles are natural, but my resilience is stronger. I’ve built a supportive network of healthcare professionals, peers, and teachers and learned to manage my triggers. I’ve also recognized the importance of universal access to quality healthcare.
Living in Boston, a city with world-class hospitals, and having insurance access to these facilities has allowed me to understand my body better manage and avoid crises. This knowledge comes from the excellent team of doctors supporting me. However, I realize that not everyone has this access. Many people suffering from the same condition don’t receive proper care. I’m committed to pursuing a career that addresses disparities in healthcare access.
I am currently learning about the public health field and figuring out the best way to contribute meaningfully to care and health. I aim to combine my personal experiences as a patient and advocate in this journey. I know my future lies in public health and administration. I want to ensure patients don’t only get the medicines they require but also someone who sees and cares about them. I’ve seen many people suffer because of bias and ignorance, and I refuse to contribute to the inequalities they face. I will strive to better my understanding of people’s individuality and cater to their physical and emotional needs. Earning a college degree is the first step in making this plan a reality. I look forward to studying health sciences, and I am confident that this will allow me to strengthen my knowledge across a diverse field of study and decide where my abilities would make the most impact.
Janean D. Watkins Overcoming Adversity Scholarship
On the flight back from DC, I couldn't keep my suffering private. I had already missed a day of events because of the pain I was in. At least I was able to explain that away. But this was different. I had always kept my health challenges between me and those closest to me. However, when the familiar sensation of shards of glass coursing through my body started on this flight, there was no way to keep quiet. This time, there were no warning signs or place to run to when my red blood cells planned a mutiny. As the plane was making its descent, I felt the bolt of pain rising up my leg, to my back, and within minutes, spreading across my body. My seat neighbor, a classmate, sensed my discomfort. She turned to me with a look between terror and sympathy. Unsure of what to do, she asked if she should get my mom, and I struggled to get out a “yes.” When my mother arrived, my screams of pain drowned out even the cries of the infant on board, much to the annoyance of the other passengers. A wheelchair was waiting to take me to the emergency room when we landed. My most public and excruciating sickle cell attack changed everything for me.
I hid my sickle cell from my peers, fearing they’d label me as the “sick kid.” My friends helped me conceal my condition, and my teachers knew only the basics. I never let them see me in pain, striving to appear “normal” despite my body’s betrayals. I knew my suffering made others uncomfortable, so I chose to hide rather than be a spectacle. I was determined to persist.
Sickle cell brings unpredictability, but it hasn’t deterred me from trying to be in control. It affects my health, not my desire to excel academically and to seek normalcy. I cherish every healthy moment and push through even when I’m unwell, often completing assignments from a hospital bed. Obstacles are natural, but my resilience is stronger. I’ve built a supportive network of healthcare professionals, peers, and teachers and learned to manage my triggers. I’ve also recognized the importance of universal access to quality healthcare.
Living in Boston, a city with world-class hospitals, and having insurance access to these facilities has allowed me to understand my body better manage and avoid crises. This knowledge comes from the excellent team of doctors supporting me. However, I realize that not everyone has this access. Many people suffering from the same condition don’t receive proper care. I’m committed to pursuing a career that addresses disparities in healthcare access.
I am currently learning about the public health field and figuring out the best way to contribute meaningfully to care and health. I aim to combine my personal experiences as a patient and advocate in this journey. Ultimately, I know my future lies in public health and administration. I want to ensure patients don’t only get the medicines they require but also someone who sees and cares about them. I’ve seen many people suffer because of bias and ignorance, and I refuse to contribute to the inequalities they face. I will strive to better my understanding of people’s individuality and cater to their needs. Earning a college degree is the first step in making this plan a reality. I look forward to studying health sciences, and I am confident that this will allow me to strengthen my knowledge across a diverse field of study and decide where my abilities would make the most impact