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Nadia Diaz


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Hello, my name is Nadia Diaz, but my friends call me Nate. My entire life, I knew my purpose was to help those around me, but I didn't know exactly what I wanted to do until I was in middle school. I wanted to be a doctor, and from that moment on, nothing would change my mind from pursuing my goal. I want to be a doctor, specifically an anesthesiologist. My father gave up so much for me, it's time I make him proud.


California State University-Northridge

Bachelor's degree program
2023 - 2025
  • Majors:
    • Biology, General

College of the Canyons

Associate's degree program
2021 - 2023
  • Majors:
    • Biology, General

William S. Hart High

High School
2017 - 2021


  • Desired degree level:

    Doctoral degree program (PhD, MD, JD, etc.)

  • Graduate schools of interest:

  • Transfer schools of interest:

  • Majors of interest:

  • Planning to go to medical school
  • Career

    • Dream career field:


    • Dream career goals:

    • Sales Associate

      Sweet Factory
      2021 – 20221 year
    WCEJ Thornton Foundation Low-Income Scholarship
    The weather was cold and slightly windy. This was a day like no other, and as a 14-year-old I would've never imagined being in the position I was that day. The day was March 18, 2018. It was what I was training for during my freshman year of high school. When I had arrived to high school my very first year, I was incredibly anxious and insecure. It was a difficult time, and I didn't know how to cope with the reality of my mental health. I was suffering silently, and I didn't like the way that I looked anymore. I needed change, but I just didn't know how to go about it. It wasn't until I found out about a program called SOAR that would forever change the way I viewed myself. The acronym stands for Students Off And Running. The only reason I actually went to the meeting was because my brother was in that program the year before. I didn't really like fitness, I didn't really like being outside, and I didn't understand that exercise actually helped with mental illness. I remember telling my friend that I was going to join, that the end goal of this program was to eventually run the LA Marathon. She looked at me and laughed. She couldn't believe I was actually going to go through with this. I asked her why, and her response, as she laughed at me, was "Because look at you." That response came from somebody that I viewed as a friend. In that moment I realized, that's not somebody I want to be friends with in the long term. I went to the meeting and I tried out for the team and, even though I was the slowest runner, I made it on the team because the coach saw how much effort I had put in. For six months we trained three times a week, gradually adding more and more miles. As the time went on, I hadn't made any friends, I was still the slowest on the team, I didn't feel like I was improving enough. I wanted to give up. I didn't think that I was good enough to be on this team. Everyone was thriving, they had made their own friend groups, talking and laughing before training started. However, I was the only kid sitting alone on the curb, waiting for the running to start. I wanted to give up, but my coach knew I had potential. He saw something that I didn't. Even if nobody on the team wanted to talk to me, he did. He made an effort to be my friend, he made an effort for me to be included. Every time I would hit a new PR, he was always there to celebrate it with me. Had I not had someone there to tell me I was enough, to tell me that they believed in me, I would've left. The day was March 18, 2018. It was what we had been training for the entirety of those six months. I should've been anxious, but the only thing I felt was excitement. On the day, everyone on the team wore a purple bow to honor SOAR. This was the final race we'd have to do, this was the last time we'd be with each other as a team. When the horns blew, that's when we knew the race was on. I had nothing but confidence, so I ran as hard and as fast as I could. No matter what I didn't stop. I never walked once in that marathon. I kept running, and I kept pushing myself to the limit. It took about five hours and forty minutes, but I had crossed that finish line. My father was at the end, when he saw me, he picked me up and held me tightly. When I met up with my team, I had made a discovery that I wasn't the last person to cross the finish line. There was never a time during the season, where I had passed someone during training or to any prior race. I was always the last one in. I had finally seen what my coach saw all along, that I was willing to put in the effort, no matter how hard the task was. He helped me see that, and I carry that determination with me everywhere I go. I have struggled, but I was able to overcome.
    José Ventura and Margarita Melendez Mexican-American Scholarship Fund
    My father came to America to search for a better life for his kids, even if that meant the sacrifice of his own. He never envisioned himself to be where he is now financially, it has been difficult ever since my mother was deported when I was seven. Despite the struggle, he never gave up working for his children, even if life was especially difficult. I love my father unconditionally, for he has done everything for me to be in the position I'm in today. I yearn to make him proud, I want to work just as hard as he did in my academic career. My father loves me, and he is already so happy I'm transferring to CSUN, but I know I can work harder to become what I want to be. I remember when I was in third grade, and I had told him "Papa, I want to be a doctor." The next day, he brought me to his van, and opened the door. We sat inside, and from underneath the seat, he pulled out a toy doctor kit. He told me that no matter what, he would work hard to help me become a doctor. He told me I would make my family proud. He told me that I would become a doctor, but no matter what I'd always be his little girl. Since I graduated high school, I've been working hard to finish my classes. The day he had given my that toy doctor kit drove me to achieve my goal. My father believed in me, and I was determined to prove to him how right he was. Now I am nineteen, I graduated with my associate's degree, and I am ready to start my bachelor's. With each milestone I achieve, my father grows more proud, and I grow closer to my goal. I have two major goals in my life, the first goal is to become an anesthesiologist. I know I'm going to become one, there is no doubt in my mind. I have put in the effort and work to get where I am today, I know there is nothing I can't do. The second goal is more personal: I want to give my father a life he's never had. When I become a doctor, and I have a great income, I will give back to my father everything he has given to me. I will buy him the house he's always wanted, I'll help him retire, he will never have to worry about money ever again. I asked him "Dad, what are your retirement plans?" He replied, "I'm buying myself a wagon, a cooler, a speaker, and I'm gonna go fishing everyday." I smiled because I knew I would be able to give him that life. What truly keeps me going is my father and his pure, simple dream of retirement. I cannot give up now, for I have only just begun.