I learned what money meant before I knew how to budget it. In my family, money means watching my father come home from an overnight shift knowing he still had more work ahead of him the following day. After my family moved from Nigeria to the United States in December 2025, there was no comfortable financial cushion waiting for us. We were simply trying to build a life again. I came to Essex County College determined to prove myself as worth higher than my family’s financial background. I am currently a Biology/Pre-Medicine student with a 3.88 cumulative GPA, a member of Phi Theta Kappa, and a Dean’s List student. I also serve as a Student Ambassador, work at the front desk of the Office of Student Development and Counseling, and work as a note-taker for students who need academic accommodations. The last role means way more than it seems. My younger brother was diagnosed with autism when he was three years old. Growing up with him made me curious about the brain and neurodivergence in general. It also taught me that sometimes something as simple as having support can change people’s circumstances in the world. That is the kind of impact I want my life to have. My goal is to study neuroscience and contribute to research surrounding autism and neurodevelopment. I want to bring that knowledge back to Nigeria and establish a neurodevelopmental center that gives families great access to resources, research, and support. I also want to create scholarships for Nigerian students from underprivileged backgrounds who have a fire for science but can’t afford to fuel it.n

Right now, my name sits at the top of scholarship applications. One day, I want it to be the name printed on one. When I moved from Nigeria to the United States in December 2025 to continue my education, I thought building my future would mostly mean earning a degree and finding a career. Instead, I have learned that building a life happens in smaller, quieter moments: going from class to work, finishing assignments when I am tired, searching for opportunities, and calculating which ones I can actually afford to pursue. Those experiences have changed what success means to me. I do want to build a recognizable personal brand, but not simply for visibility. I want my name to become associated with creating opportunities for other people. One expression of that vision is Ìṣẹ̀dá, the creative studio I am building for small businesses, brand owners, and people who want to make big moments happen. I want Ìṣẹ̀dá to be where someone can bring an idea that still feels scattered and leave with something that finally feels real. For a small business or emerging brand, that could mean a complete creative facelift—sharpening its identity, presentation, and direction—while also helping with the administrative and back-end work that can make starting or running a business feel overwhelming. For someone planning an important moment, it means helping turn an idea into an experience that feels intentional and memorable. I love the thought of helping people give structure to something they can already see in their minds but may not yet know how to create. That same instinct shapes another dream of mine. Growing up in Nigeria showed me how much talent can exist without equal access to opportunity. I have seen people reduce their dreams to what they or their families can afford. Eventually, I want to use the career, platform, and resources I build to create scholarships for underserved students in Nigeria, beginning with needs that can quietly become barriers: tuition, textbooks, examination fees, or even the cost of submitting an application. That goal is personal because, right now, I am still the student hoping someone will invest in me. I know what it feels like to write an essay, press submit, and hope that someone reading it will see not only where you are, but where you are trying to go. To me, a scholarship is more than money. It is someone saying, “I see possibility in you, and I want to help you reach it.” So when I think about what I want to build, I do not see one company or one career. I see a life in which what I build makes it easier for other people to build too. For now, my name is on the application. One day, I hope it becomes part of someone else’s opportunity.

For me, autism was never something I first learned about in a biology textbook. It was my little brother. Growing up, I watched him experience the world differently from the rest of us. There were things about the way he communicated, reacted, and understood his surroundings that I did not fully understand. When I was younger, I did not have the scientific vocabulary for any of it. I just had questions. A lot of them. Why was his brain different from mine? What was happening inside it? Could understanding the brain better help children like him communicate, learn, or simply move through the world with fewer people misunderstanding them? Those questions stayed with me. In Nigeria, neuroscience was not really available to me as the straightforward undergraduate path I wanted, so I studied Anatomy at Lead City University instead. It was the closest I could get to studying the human body and, especially, the brain. After moving to the United States in December 2025, I continued my education at Essex County College as a Biology/Pre-Medicine student. Since then, I have earned a 3.88 cumulative GPA, joined Phi Theta Kappa, and made the Dean’s List. But underneath the grades and accomplishments, the reason I am still pursuing STEM is much simpler: I still want answers to the questions I started asking because of my brother. My experiences at Essex have also made those questions feel even more personal. I work as a note-taker for students who need academic accommodations. I also work in the Office of Student Development and Counseling and serve as a Student Ambassador. Being around students with different needs has made me realize that science is not only about making discoveries. It is also about what happens after the discovery. Who benefits from it? Who can afford it? Who has access to the doctors, schools, research, and support systems that are supposed to help them? Those questions matter deeply to me because I grew up in Nigeria. There is no shortage of intelligent, curious young people there. What is often missing is opportunity. I have seen how easily a person’s potential can be limited by something as basic as money, geography, or access to the right school. That is why my dream is bigger than becoming a physician or researcher. I want to contribute to research on autism and other neurodevelopmental conditions, but eventually, I also want to bring what I learn back home. I hope to help create a neurodevelopmental center in Nigeria where families can receive better information, resources, and support. I also want to establish scholarships for underprivileged Nigerian students, especially students with the ability to succeed in STEM but not the financial means to get there. As a Nigerian woman of color in STEM, I understand that simply entering these spaces matters. But I do not want my impact to stop at being represented in them. I want to use whatever access I gain to create access for somebody else. Maybe that is what my brother unknowingly taught me. My first questions in science were about understanding one person I loved. Over time, those questions became something much bigger: How do we understand people better? How do we make science reach the people who need it? And how do we make sure talent is not wasted simply because someone was born without the right opportunities? Those are the questions I want to spend my life answering.

Some of the most important ways I have helped people would never appear on a volunteer log. For years, I thought community service meant having a title, attending an organized event, or recording volunteer hours. Eventually, I realized that service is simpler than that. To me, it is noticing when someone needs something you can give—your time, attention, knowledge, or resources—and choosing not to look away. I first learned that through my church in Nigeria. I began in the choir, later became an Assistant Choir Coordinator, and eventually served as Vice President of my provincial Junior Church. I helped organize programs, coordinate volunteers and communication, mentor younger teenagers, and support events behind the scenes. At one major program, I handled registration for approximately 223 attendees. Most people attending probably never knew who organized the lists or kept things moving. That never bothered me. I learned early that helping does not become more meaningful because people see you doing it. When I moved to the United States, that mindset followed me to Essex County College. I became a Student Ambassador and volunteered with commencement and campus activities. I also serve as a note-taker for students who receive academic accommodations. Sitting through a lecture and carefully recording information may seem ordinary, but those notes are not for me. Another student is depending on me to pay attention, be accurate, and show up consistently. That responsibility taught me something important: what feels small to the person giving help may not feel small to the person receiving it. The same principle shapes the parts of my life no organization tracks. There have been times when a friend was struggling financially and I helped because I had the ability to make things a little easier. I did not see it as something that deserved recognition. Someone I cared about needed help, and that was enough. Right now, I am also helping my boyfriend in Nigeria plan how to continue his education abroad. I research countries, schools, scholarships, vocational pathways, work opportunities, visa requirements, and realistic ways to finance the transition. I compare options, make lists, and help turn an overwhelming goal into smaller steps he can actually take. I cannot build that future for him. But I can make sure he does not have to figure out every part of it alone. What connects all of these experiences is the same instinct. Whether I am helping hundreds of teenagers at church, one student who needs accessible notes, a friend who needs financial help, or someone trying to change the direction of his life, I am trying to make another person’s burden a little lighter. That does not mean I have unlimited time or energy. I am a full-time student, participate in Work-Study, and commute about an hour each way to school. I have assignments, financial concerns, and my own future to build. Still, I do not want being busy to become an excuse to stop noticing other people. My faith has shaped that belief deeply. I do not think service is mainly about being seen doing something good. Sometimes it is simply asking, What can I do from where I am, with what I have? As I pursue neuroscience and eventually hope to serve families and underserved communities through my education, I want to carry that question with me. I may never solve every problem around me. But I can listen. I can research. I can give. I can show up. And when I have the ability to make someone else’s path a little easier, I want to be the person who does.

I do not believe my advantage over another applicant is that I have struggled more than they have. I do not know their story. What I can say is that I have learned how to keep moving without allowing pressure to make me stop showing up—for my education, my family, or the people around me. In December 2025, I moved from Nigeria to the United States and had to rebuild almost everything familiar to me. New country. New school system. New expectations. I enrolled at Essex County College determined not to simply pass through college, but to make something meaningful out of an opportunity my family had sacrificed for. For a while, I maintained a 4.0 GPA. Then I received a B+ in a course where I genuinely believed the quality of my work had earned an A. I would be lying if I said it did not hurt. I had worked hard for that 4.0, and watching my cumulative GPA fall to 3.88 felt much bigger to me than a few decimal points. But 3.88 is not failure. To me, it is evidence that I was tested, disappointed, and kept going. I am still a Dean’s List student. I am still a member of Phi Theta Kappa. I am still pursuing Biology/Pre-Medicine and working toward a future in neuroscience. That experience taught me something a perfect transcript could not: excellence cannot depend on everything going the way I believe it should. Sometimes excellence is what you do after it does not. That lesson follows me through my everyday life. I am a full-time student, and my commute to school takes about an hour each way. My days have to hold lectures, labs, assignments, studying, two hours of commuting, and Work-Study. On campus, I support the Office of Student Development and Counseling at the front desk and serve as a note-taker for students who receive academic accommodations. I have also volunteered as a Student Ambassador, helping with commencement, graduation activities, and other campus events. Some mornings, I leave home already knowing that two hours of my day will disappear into simply getting to school and back. Some evenings, I still have studying waiting for me after work and classes. And yet, I am still standing. That means more to me than pretending any of this has been easy. There have been moments when I have seriously wondered whether I could make it all the way to a bachelor’s degree. My family is still building a life in this country. My mother is currently unemployed, and I have watched my father work exhausting hours to help support us. I participate in Work-Study because I want to carry some of that responsibility instead of leaving it entirely to my parents. When my own motivation feels insufficient, I lean on my faith. I trust Jesus for the grace to take the next step, then the next one after that. I am learning that I do not need enough strength for the entire journey at once. I need enough to keep going today. Long before college, service was already part of who I was. My church in Nigeria was my first classroom in leadership. I began in the choir, became an Assistant Choir Coordinator, and later served as Vice President of my provincial Junior Church. I helped organize programs, coordinate volunteers and communication, mentor younger teenagers, and once handled registration for approximately 223 attendees. I did not think of any of that as résumé building. People needed help, so I helped. That same instinct followed me to the United States. It is why I can spend an entire lecture taking detailed notes knowing they are not for me, but for another student who needs them. It is why I make room to serve my campus even while balancing my own responsibilities. My ambition is equally personal. I want to continue into neuroscience and eventually study neurodevelopment, neurodivergence, and the relationship between the brain and behavior. I hope to contribute to research and, one day, use what I learn to create resources and opportunities for underserved communities, including in Nigeria. So what gives me an advantage? It is not a perfect GPA, because mine is no longer perfect. It is not an easy journey, because mine has not been easy. It is that I know how to begin again. I know how to commute an hour to school, work between classes, study while tired, serve while busy, be disappointed and return anyway. I know how to keep building when quitting would be easier. Receiving this scholarship would ease the financial pressure surrounding my education, but more than that, it would give me room to keep building—room to spend less energy worrying about the next educational expense and more energy becoming the student, researcher, and servant-leader I am working toward. I cannot promise that I will never struggle again. I can promise what my life has already taught me to do when I do. I will pray. I will learn. I will adapt. I will serve. And I will keep showing up.

There is a particular kind of grief in being forgotten by someone who is still alive. My mother’s maternal uncle has dementia. He is still here, still part of our family, but he can no longer remember my mother. Knowing that someone who once knew her as family can now look at her without that recognition is difficult to explain. Nothing dramatic has to happen for it to hurt. Sometimes the loss is simply realizing that a relationship still exists in one person’s memory but no longer in the other’s. That has changed the way I think about memory. Before dementia affected my family, memory was something I rarely thought about. It was simply there. We remember faces, conversations, people who watched us grow up, and the small details that make someone familiar. Dementia made me realize how much of our lives depends on the brain quietly holding all of those things together. That realization is especially meaningful to me because I want to study neuroscience. I am currently studying Biology/Pre-Medicine at Essex County College, with the goal of continuing my education in neuroscience. I have always been fascinated by the brain and by a question that sounds simple but becomes more complicated the more I learn: what makes us who we are? Dementia gives that question an entirely different weight. When the brain changes, it is not only a biological process happening inside one person. A niece can become unfamiliar. A spouse can become a stranger. A story that has been shared for decades can disappear from one person’s memory while everyone else is still carrying it. Seeing that happen in my own family has made neuroscience feel much less abstract to me. I am still early in my education, so I cannot pretend that I already understand dementia at the level of a neuroscientist or that I have conducted Alzheimer’s research. I have not. What I do have is a growing desire to understand what happens in the brain as memory and cognition begin to deteriorate, why some people develop neurodegenerative diseases while others do not, and how research can give families more time with the people they love. That last part matters to me most. When people talk about treatments for Alzheimer’s disease and other forms of dementia, the conversation can sound purely scientific: protect neurons, slow degeneration, improve early detection, identify biomarkers. All of that matters. But behind every scientific question is something much more ordinary and human. It is a woman hoping her uncle will recognize her. It is a spouse hoping for one more conversation in which both people remember the life they built together. It is a family learning how to love someone through a loss that happens gradually. My uncle’s condition has taught me that neurological illness rarely belongs to one patient alone. Families experience it too. It has also taught me that a person does not become less worthy of patience, dignity, or love because their memory changes. If anything, those are the moments when they need those things most. As I continue my education, I hope to seek undergraduate research opportunities focused on memory, neurodegeneration, and early cognitive changes. I want to learn how scientists ask meaningful questions, analyze data, study disease mechanisms, and evaluate possible treatments. I am especially interested in how memory is formed, how it becomes vulnerable in neurodegenerative disease, and how earlier recognition of cognitive decline might create better outcomes for patients and their families. I do not yet know exactly where that interest will take me, and I think there is value in being honest about that. I am still learning. But I know what I want that learning to become. I want a career in which understanding the brain is not simply an intellectual exercise. I want that knowledge to eventually mean something to people. Whether my path leads me directly into dementia research or another area of neuroscience and medicine, I want to contribute to work that helps people preserve more of themselves for longer and gives families more time with the people they know and love. Dementia has taught me that memory is not just our ability to recall information. Memory carries relationships. It carries history. It carries the feeling of being known. My mother’s uncle may no longer remember her. But she remembers him. Our family remembers him. And as I move toward a future in neuroscience, his illness has given me one more reason to believe that studying the brain is ultimately about more than understanding disease. It is about protecting the pieces of a person that make recognition, connection, and love possible.

My interest in women’s health begins with a woman in my own family: my great-aunt. She turned seventy last year and now lives in a residential home for older adults. She is autistic, very verbal, endlessly inquisitive, and sometimes struggles with coordination. Her life has also carried more pain than anyone should have to bear. When she was younger, she survived sexual violence. She later had a son who was very ill and died, and she never had another child. What stays with me most, though, is not the tragedy in her story. It is how easy it would be for someone to look at her and reduce her to a diagnosis, a trauma, or a list of things she cannot do. When I am with her, I see a whole person: curious, expressive, observant, and deserving of care that understands all of her, not just the most obvious parts. Her story is not a PMDD or PME story, and I would never pretend that it is. But she is one reason I care so deeply about what happens when women’s neurological and mental-health needs are misunderstood, overlooked, or treated separately from the rest of their lives. I am currently studying Biology/Pre-Medicine at Essex County College, with the goal of continuing into neuroscience. What keeps pulling me toward neuroscience is the idea that two people can live through the same environment and experience it completely differently. I have wondered about that for years because of my great-aunt. Learning about PMDD and PME gave that question another dimension: even normal hormonal changes can dramatically alter how someone experiences her own mind and body. I am still early in my academic journey and have not yet had the opportunity to conduct formal neuroscience research. What I do have is a question I want to grow into the skills to investigate: how can we recognize cyclical neurological and psychological changes earlier, before women spend years being misunderstood? One area I would eventually like to explore is longitudinal symptom tracking for PMDD and PME. I imagine a simple tool that allows patients to record changes in mood, cognition, sleep, and other symptoms across several menstrual cycles, especially in primary care, psychiatry, or college health settings. It would not diagnose PMDD or PME. Its purpose would be to make patterns visible enough that a patient and clinician know when further evaluation is warranted. Before I could help develop something like that, I would need to learn how to do the research properly. I want undergraduate research experience that teaches me how to form good questions, work with data, understand study design, and eventually investigate the neurobiology of hormonal sensitivity. I am especially interested in whether neurodivergence changes how some people experience cyclical hormonal shifts. What troubles me most is that these conditions can affect millions of people and still be missed because their symptoms are cyclical. A patient may be treated for depression, anxiety, ADHD, PTSD, or another condition without anyone asking whether those symptoms reliably worsen during a particular phase of the menstrual cycle. That gap between what a patient is experiencing and what a clinician is trained to notice is exactly where I hope my future work can matter. My great-aunt taught me, without ever intending to, that being medically “seen” is not the same as being fully understood. I want my career in neuroscience to help close that distance. For women living with PMDD or PME, being believed should not take years. Recognition should be routine, and I want to help make it that way.

One thing I hope people can always say about me is that I showed up. I showed up when my church in Nigeria needed someone to help register more than 200 teenagers for a program. I showed up for choir rehearsals, younger members who needed guidance, and the quiet work behind events that most people never saw. Years later, after moving thousands of miles away and starting over in the United States, showing up began to look different. Sometimes, it meant sitting in a college lecture taking careful notes because another student was depending on me to make that class more accessible. For a long time, I never thought of this as “community service.” It was simply how I was raised to care for people. My church was where I first learned that. I began as a choir member, later became an Assistant Choir Coordinator, and eventually served as Vice President of my provincial Junior Church. I helped organize programs, coordinate volunteers and registrations, and mentor younger teenagers. My faith taught me that service is often simply noticing what needs to be done and deciding not to walk past it. Then, in December 2025, my family moved from Nigeria to the United States. Suddenly, I was the one trying to find my place. Essex County College became one of the first places where I began rebuilding that sense of belonging. I joined the Student Ambassadors and helped with commencement and campus activities. I also became a note-taker for students who receive academic accommodations and began supporting the Office of Student Development and Counseling at the front desk. These roles taught me that small acts can matter greatly when someone is depending on them. That understanding is personal because of my younger brother, who was diagnosed with autism at three. Growing up with him made me curious about the brain long before I knew what neuroscience was. I wondered how he experienced the world and why the same environment could feel so different to two people. Those childhood questions eventually became my academic direction. Today, I am pursuing Biology/Pre-Medicine at Essex County College with a 3.88 GPA. I have earned Dean’s List recognition and membership in Phi Theta Kappa, and I hope to continue into neuroscience, especially studying neurodevelopment and neurodivergence. But getting there has not always felt easy. I have considered giving up on earning my bachelor’s degree more than once. Starting over in a new country, adjusting to a new educational system, working while studying, and watching my family make sacrifices for my education can become overwhelming. Sometimes the distance between where I am and where I want to be feels enormous. In those moments, I trust Jesus. I am learning to depend on His grace for the step in front of me instead of worrying about the whole journey at once. My faith does not remove the difficult days, but it gives me a reason to keep going. I am still here—still studying, still serving, and still believing I will make it to my bachelor’s degree. Receiving this scholarship would help with tuition, textbooks, lab materials, and transportation while easing financial pressure on my family. More importantly, it would give me room to keep moving forward. I want to study the brain, contribute to our understanding of neurodivergence, and someday help families like mine. But more than the degrees or titles, I hope people remember that I cared, that they could count on me, and that even when I wanted to stop, I kept trusting God and kept showing up.

When I was younger, I did not know what neuroscience was. I just knew I had questions. My younger brother was diagnosed with autism when he was three, and growing up with him made me curious about things I did not yet have the language to explain. I wondered why he experienced certain situations differently from me, how he processed the world around him, and what was happening in his mind when he could not always communicate what he was feeling. I did not know the word neurodivergence then. I only knew I wanted to understand the brain. For years, I was unsure what field could answer those questions. I considered forensic science, environmental science, clinical psychology, and other paths before eventually discovering neuroscience. When I realized there was an entire field devoted to understanding the brain, behavior, perception, communication, and development, something finally clicked. I had found the place where questions I had carried since childhood could become something useful. That is why I chose STEAM, but service is what has shaped what I want to do with it. Before moving to the United States, much of my life outside school revolved around my church in Nigeria. I started in the choir and eventually served in leadership, including as an Assistant Choir Coordinator and later Vice President of my provincial Junior Church. I helped organize programs, coordinate volunteers, manage registrations and communication, and mentor younger teenagers. For one major event, our team registered more than 200 attendees. At the time, I did not think of those things as building a résumé. I was simply doing what needed to be done for a community I cared about. When I moved from Nigeria to New Jersey and began studying at Essex County College, I wanted to find that same sense of community again. I became a Student Ambassador and helped with campus activities, including commencement logistics. I also began supporting students through Disability Services as a note-taker, creating detailed, accessible notes for students who need accommodations. That work has become especially meaningful to me because it connects directly to the reason I became interested in neuroscience in the first place: people do not all process, learn, communicate, or experience the world in the same way. My long-term goal is not simply to earn a neuroscience degree. I want to contribute to research on neurodevelopment and neurodivergence and, eventually, help create resources and opportunities for families like mine, including through a neurodevelopmental institute in Nigeria. Receiving this scholarship would help with textbooks, lab materials, transportation, and other educational costs while easing some of the pressure on my family as we continue adjusting to life in the United States. More importantly, it would give me more room to focus on the education and service that are preparing me for the work I hope to do. I chose neuroscience because I wanted to understand my brother’s world. I am continuing in it because I want that understanding to someday help someone beyond my own family.

Growing up, I was always curious about my brother. He was diagnosed with autism when he was three, and because I grew up so close to him, I was constantly wondering what the world looked like from his point of view. I would notice the way certain things affected him differently, the way he communicated, the things that made sense to him that did not always make sense to everyone else, and I would wonder what was happening in his mind. Back then, I did not know the word neurodivergence. I did not know there was an entire field dedicated to studying the brain and the way it shapes behavior, thought, emotion, and perception. I just knew I wanted to understand him better. As I got older and started thinking seriously about what I wanted to study, that curiosity stayed with me, but I had no idea where to put it. I considered forensic science. Then environmental science. Then clinical psychology. I kept finding subjects I liked, but none of them felt completely right. It was frustrating because I knew what interested me, but I could not figure out what career actually matched it. Then I read Love on the Brain by Ali Hazelwood. It was only the second book of hers I had ever read, but it sealed the deal on making her my favorite author. I picked it up because I had enjoyed her writing before and expected a good story. I definitely did not expect it to help me figure out what I wanted to do with my life. The main character was a neuroscientist. I remember reading about her work and thinking, Wait. This is a real thing? People actually study this? It sounds so simple now, but that moment meant a lot to me. For the first time, I had a name for the kind of questions I had been asking since I was little. I could study the brain. I could study why people think differently, why they process the world differently, how behavior connects to biology, and how neurological differences shape a person’s experience. And immediately, I thought about my brother. That was the moment neuroscience stopped being something I had never heard of and became the thing I could actually see myself doing. Since then, my interest has only become more personal. After moving from Nigeria to the United States and continuing my education at Essex County College, I have tried to take my academics seriously while also becoming involved in my school community. I have earned Dean’s List recognition, joined Phi Theta Kappa, and I now work as a note-taker for students who receive academic accommodations. That role especially reminds me that people do not all learn, communicate, or experience the world in the same way. I want to continue studying neuroscience because I still have the same questions I had growing up. I want to understand the brain more deeply, especially neurodivergence, and I hope to contribute to research that helps people see neurodivergent individuals as whole people, not just diagnoses. My brother is what made me curious about the brain. Love on the Brain is what made me realize that curiosity could become my future.

I do not define the American Dream as becoming rich or simply living in the United States. To me, the American Dream is having enough opportunity that where you begin does not have to determine where you finish—and then using that opportunity to create possibilities for other people. When my family and I moved from Nigeria to the United States in December 2025, I quickly learned that opportunity and ease are not the same thing. My mother is currently unemployed, while my father works overnight and daytime shifts to support our household and help pay for my education. I have watched how much sacrifice can exist behind a single tuition payment. Those sacrifices have made me see education differently. College is not simply somewhere I go; it is an opportunity my family is working incredibly hard to keep within my reach. I try to honor that opportunity through both achievement and service. At Essex County College, where I study Biology/Pre-Medicine, I have maintained a 3.88 cumulative GPA, earned Dean’s List recognition, and became a member of Phi Theta Kappa. But some of the experiences I value most cannot be measured by my GPA. As a Student Ambassador, I have helped support students and major campus events. I also serve as a note-taker for students who require academic accommodations and provide front-desk support in the Office of Student Development and Counseling. Service was important to me even before I moved to the United States. In Nigeria, I volunteered in church leadership, eventually serving as Vice President of my junior church. I helped coordinate programs, volunteers, communications, registration, and events. Those experiences taught me that leadership is not about having the most visible position. Often, it is about doing the work that allows everyone else to participate, belong, and succeed. My American Dream also has a very personal direction. My younger brother was diagnosed with autism when he was three years old, and growing up with him made me curious about the brain, behavior, communication, and neurodevelopment. When neuroscience was not available to me as an undergraduate field in Nigeria, I began studying Anatomy. Today, I am building toward a future in neuroscience, with plans to continue my education and eventually conduct research focused on neurodevelopment and autism. My dream does not end with my own degree. I hope to create opportunities for students who may have the ability to succeed in science but not the financial resources, mentorship, or access to pursue it. Ultimately, I want my work to contribute to stronger neurodevelopmental research and support in Nigeria as well. To me, that is the American Dream: not a guarantee of success, but the opportunity to turn sacrifice into progress, progress into purpose, and personal achievement into something that reaches beyond yourself.

Before I knew the word “neuroscience,” I was simply an older sister trying to understand the little boy I loved. My younger brother was diagnosed with autism when he was three, and as we grew up together, I often wondered what the world felt like to him. How did his brain process language, emotion, and the people around him? Why could the same experience affect us so differently? My desire to answer those questions grew into an academic purpose: to become a neuroscience researcher and help families better understand neurodevelopmental differences. Pursuing that purpose has required me to adapt without losing sight of who I want to become. Since neuroscience was not offered as an undergraduate degree in Nigeria, I began studying Anatomy at Lead City University. When my family and I moved to the United States, I had to rebuild my academic journey in an unfamiliar educational system. I enrolled at Essex County College as a Biology/Pre-Medicine major because it offered the strongest available foundation for my intended field. Starting again was humbling, but I refused to treat it as a setback. I have earned a 3.88 cumulative GPA, made the Dean’s List, joined Phi Theta Kappa, and become involved in the ECC Student Ambassadors Program. These achievements are deeply meaningful to me because they reflect the quiet discipline behind my ambition: adjusting to a new country, learning a new system, and continuing to show up for my education even when the path changed. After completing my associate degree, I plan to transfer to Rutgers University to study neuroscience. I want to gain hands-on laboratory and research experience in brain development, behavior, autism, and other neurodevelopmental conditions. My goal is to pursue advanced study and build a career in neuroscience research, but I do not want my education to end with my own success. One day, I hope to establish a neurodevelopmental institute in Nigeria focused on neurodivergence and neurodevelopmental disorders. I want families like mine to have access to accurate information, research-informed support, and professionals who understand their experiences. I also hope to create scholarships for underprivileged Nigerian students with a passion for science, because talent should not be lost simply because opportunity is unaffordable. I have already learned that meaningful impact begins with being willing to serve. As Vice President of my provincial junior church, I helped coordinate youth programs, volunteers, communications, and event logistics. During one major program, I managed the registration process for approximately 223 attendees. That experience taught me to remain dependable under pressure and to recognize that leadership is often quiet work done behind the scenes so that others can succeed. This $1,000 scholarship would help pay for tuition, textbooks, and laboratory-related materials as I complete my degree and prepare to transfer. Since moving to the United States, my father has worked overnight and additional daytime shifts while supporting our family and helping pay my tuition, while my mother is currently unemployed. I have secured a campus work-study position so I can contribute, but our financial responsibilities remain significant. This scholarship would reduce the amount my father must stretch himself to provide and give me greater freedom to focus on academic excellence and research preparation. My educational journey began with a sister’s love and questions about her brother. I now want to become a woman whose education transforms those questions into research, that research into resources, and her opportunities into lasting change for others.

When my younger brother was diagnosed with autism at three years old, I did not yet know the word “neuroscience.” I only knew that I wanted to understand him. I wondered how he experienced the world, what shaped his behavior, and why his brain processed things differently. Those questions became more than childhood curiosity; they became the foundation of my purpose. I want to study the brain not as an abstract scientific puzzle, but because behind every diagnosis is a person deserving to be understood, supported, and given the opportunity to thrive. When my family moved from Nigeria to the United States, I had to adjust to a new country and educational system while watching my parents make enormous sacrifices for our stability. My father works overnight shifts alongside regular daytime shifts, while my mother is currently unemployed. Their perseverance reminds me that my education is not mine alone—it carries my family’s hope. At Essex County College, I am studying Biology/Pre-Med as the closest available foundation for my goal. I have earned a 3.88 GPA, made the Dean’s List, and joined Phi Theta Kappa. After completing my associate degree, I plan to transfer to Rutgers University to study neuroscience and ultimately earn a Ph.D. focused on neuroscience research. Service is already part of how I lead. At RCCG Lagos Province 28 Junior Church, I progressed from choir member to Assistant Choir Coordinator and later Vice President. I coordinated programs, volunteer schedules, communications, and registrations. For one event, I independently registered approximately 223 attendees using Google Forms and spreadsheets while maintaining accurate records and assisting participants. At ECC, I also helped run a graduation ceremony and reception behind the scenes by guiding guests to their correct seats and serving food. These experiences taught me that meaningful impact often begins with organization, consistency, and a willingness to perform the unnoticed work that helps others feel supported. My long-term vision is to establish a neurodevelopmental institute in Nigeria focused on neurodivergence and neurodevelopmental disorders. I envision a center combining research, family education, professional training, and partnerships with clinicians and schools. Families should be able to seek informed guidance without shame, while neurodivergent children and adults receive support that respects their individuality. Through community outreach, the institute would help teachers, parents, and faith communities replace harmful misconceptions with knowledge and compassion. I also plan to organize scholarships for underprivileged Nigerian students passionate about science. Talent can exist where opportunity does not. These scholarships would assist with tuition, books, laboratory materials, and mentorship so financial hardship does not force promising students to abandon their abilities. I would connect recipients with scientists and research opportunities, creating a cycle in which they eventually mentor and serve others. My brother gave my questions meaning, my parents taught me endurance, and serving my communities taught me that change requires both vision and dependable work. This $2,500 scholarship would help cover tuition, books, and laboratory expenses while reducing the burden on my family and allowing me to devote more time to my science courses and research preparation. It would be more than financial assistance; it would be an early investment in every family my future institute may serve and every student my future scholarships may support. I want my education to travel farther than I do—from a classroom in New Jersey to laboratories, schools, and homes across Nigeria.

The Question That Followed Me Across an Ocean My younger brother was three years old when he was diagnosed with autism. I did not understand every clinical term, but I understood that he experienced the world differently. I began wondering what he noticed, how he processed sound and emotion, and what was happening inside the brain that shaped his behavior. Those questions first led me to study Anatomy at Lead City University in Nigeria, where Neuroscience was not available as an undergraduate major. Years later, they followed me across an ocean. In December 2025, my family and I immigrated to the United States as legal permanent residents. Moving gave me access to new educational possibilities, but it also required me to rebuild my life quickly. I left behind a familiar academic system, community, and support network. My previous college journey could not simply continue as planned, so I began again at Essex County College as a Biology/Pre-Medicine student. Starting over taught me that progress does not always look like moving in a straight line. I had to adjust to unfamiliar expectations while watching my family confront financial uncertainty. My mother is unemployed, and my father works overnight and additional daytime shifts to stretch our limited income across groceries, household expenses, and my community-college tuition. Some days, he barely has time to come home. Seeing that sacrifice has made education feel like more than a personal ambition. Every class I complete is part of the stability my family crossed an ocean to build. I responded by working to make the opportunity count. I have earned a 3.88 cumulative GPA, made the Spring 2026 Dean’s List, joined Phi Theta Kappa, and become part of the ECC Student Ambassadors Program. Long before immigrating, service shaped me through more than three years of youth leadership in my church community. As a provincial junior-church leader, I helped coordinate events, prepare reports, communicate with teams, and manage registration data for approximately 223 attendees. That experience taught me that leadership is not a title. It is noticing what people need and building systems that help them participate. The person who has inspired my direction most is my younger brother. He did not choose to become the beginning of my academic purpose, but knowing him taught me to replace assumptions with curiosity. He showed me that neurological differences should not reduce a person to a diagnosis. They should challenge researchers, educators, and communities to understand people more fully. After completing my associate degree, I plan to transfer to Rutgers University and earn a bachelor’s degree in neuroscience by 2028. I then intend to pursue research training and a Ph.D., studying autism, neurodevelopment, and how the brain shapes behavior. I am also interested in neuromusicology, particularly the neurological relationship between music and mental health. Ultimately, I want to return knowledge and opportunity to the communities that formed me. My goal is to establish a neurodevelopmental research and support institute in Nigeria while creating scholarships for underprivileged students passionate about science. I want people like my brother to be understood in my home country, and for them to feel seen. This scholarship would reduce the financial burden on my family and give me more freedom to focus on the education required to serve others. The question that began with my brother has become the work I hope to spend my life answering: How can understanding the brain help us understand, support, and value one another more completely?

Moving from Nigeria to the United States in December 2025 required me to enter an unfamiliar environment and rebuild an academic path I had already begun. Although my circumstances are different from Maggie Kwiecien’s, I relate deeply to the courage required to leave a familiar country, pursue education far from the community that shaped you, and continue moving forward without a complete guarantee of how everything will work out. Before moving, I studied Anatomy at Lead City University in Nigeria. In the United States, I restarted at Essex County College as a Biology/Pre-Medicine student because neuroscience is not offered as a major there. I now hold a 3.88 cumulative GPA, made the Spring 2026 Dean’s List, joined Phi Theta Kappa, and became a member of the ECC Student Ambassadors Program. Each achievement represents my decision to treat starting over as a new foundation rather than the end of my previous progress. Like Maggie, I am intellectually curious and determined to become knowledgeable in the field I choose. My interest in neuroscience began with my younger brother, who was diagnosed with autism at three years old. I wanted to understand how he experienced the world and how his brain processed communication and behavior differently. I am now especially interested in autism, neurodivergence, and neuromusicology, including how music affects mental health from a neurological perspective. I also relate to Maggie’s willingness to accept challenges and contribute wherever she found herself. In Nigeria, I served as Assistant Choir Coordinator of a provincial church choir and later as Vice President of the Lagos Province 28 Junior Church. I coordinated people, supported younger members, and helped manage registration information for an event involving approximately 223 attendees. These responsibilities taught me to earn trust through consistency rather than waiting for people to assume I was capable. My transition has not been easy. My mother is unemployed, and my father works demanding overnight and daytime shifts to support our family and my education. Nevertheless, I have continued pursuing my goals while contributing wherever possible. Maggie’s story reminds me that bravery is not the absence of uncertainty. It is the decision to keep learning, serving, and building despite it. I hope to embody that spirit through neuroscience research and eventually establish a neurodevelopment institute and science scholarships in Nigeria. Like Maggie, I want the knowledge I pursue and the life I build to leave opportunities behind for other people.

My passion for neuroscience began with my younger brother, who was diagnosed with autism at three years old. Growing up beside him made me curious about how the brain shapes communication, behavior, emotion, and perception. It also taught me to look beyond surface-level behavior and approach people with patience. Those early questions eventually became my goal of conducting neuroscience research focused on autism, neurodivergence, and mental health. I first pursued that interest by studying Anatomy at Lead City University in Nigeria. After moving to the United States with my family in December 2025, I rebuilt my academic path at Essex County College. I now study Biology/Pre-Medicine, hold a 3.88 cumulative GPA, made the Spring 2026 Dean’s List, and belong to Phi Theta Kappa and the ECC Student Ambassadors Program. Service has been central to my development. At the Redeemed Christian Church of God in Nigeria, I served as Assistant Choir Coordinator from January 2023 through December 2024 and as Vice President of the Lagos Province 28 Junior Church from December 24, 2024, through September 12, 2025. I helped coordinate programs for children and teenagers and supported volunteers across choir, media, registration, and administrative departments. For one event, I used Google Forms and spreadsheets to help manage registration information for approximately 223 attendees. The work taught me that leadership is not always standing at the front of a room. Sometimes it means building a reliable system, checking details, and ensuring that other people have what they need to succeed. My education will prepare me to transfer into neuroscience, pursue doctoral research, and study questions that are personally meaningful to me. I am especially interested in neuromusicology and how music affects mental health within the brain. Modern neuroscience depends on imaging technology, computational tools, and data analysis, so I also want to develop the technical skills required to interpret complex neurological information responsibly. In the long term, I hope to establish a neurodevelopment institute in Nigeria that conducts research while helping families understand conditions that are often stigmatized or overlooked. I also want to create scholarships for underprivileged students who are passionate about science but lack financial opportunity. Receiving the Byte into STEM Scholarship would help cover tuition, books, laboratory materials, and the educational opportunities required to continue this path. More importantly, it would invest in a Black woman pursuing STEM not solely for personal advancement, but to use research, technology, and service to help communities participate in scientific progress.

To me, going to college means turning the questions that began within my family into knowledge that could eventually help other families. It is not simply the next expected step after high school or a way to earn a qualification. College is the bridge between the curiosity I have carried for years and the neuroscience career I am working to build. My interest in the brain began with my younger brother, who was diagnosed with autism when he was three years old. As I grew up beside him, I wondered how he experienced the world, why his brain processed communication differently, and why certain behaviors were often misunderstood by people around him. At the time, I did not know that these questions belonged to neuroscience. I only knew that I wanted to understand him and help create a world in which people like him are treated with greater knowledge and compassion. I began pursuing those questions by studying Anatomy at Lead City University in Nigeria. When my family moved to the United States in December 2025, I had to rebuild my academic path at Essex County College. I now study Biology/Pre-Medicine and have earned a 3.88 cumulative GPA. I made the Spring 2026 Dean’s List, joined Phi Theta Kappa, and became involved in the ECC Student Ambassadors Program. These accomplishments matter to me because they prove that beginning again did not erase my academic ability or determination. Attending college has required sacrifice from my entire family. My mother is unemployed, while my father works overnight shifts in addition to two daytime shifts to support our household and help cover my educational expenses. During our adjustment, I worked at a juice bar and used my earnings to purchase groceries for our family. Watching my father work so hard has taught me that my education is both a privilege and a responsibility. I want his sacrifices to produce something that reaches far beyond me. My goal is to transfer into a neuroscience program, earn my bachelor’s degree, and eventually pursue a Ph.D. I want to research autism, neurodivergence, behavior, and neuromusicology, particularly how music affects mental health from a neurological perspective. I hope my research can make complicated scientific knowledge more understandable and useful to families who may not have access to neurological resources. In the future, I want to return to Nigeria, establish scholarships for underprivileged students who are passionate about science, and open a neurodevelopment institute that combines research with support for children and their families. Going to college therefore means gaining the knowledge, research experience, and leadership skills required to transform a deeply personal curiosity into meaningful service. I am not pursuing an education only to build a career for myself. I am trying to create understanding, expand opportunity, honor my family’s sacrifices, and ensure that what I learn can improve lives beyond my own.

When I moved from Nigeria to the United States with my family in December 2025, I expected the transition to be difficult. What I did not fully understand was how it would feel to begin my education again while watching my family struggle to establish stability. I had already completed my first year at Lead City University, where I studied Anatomy, but I did not know how much of that progress would transfer. I had to accept that reaching my goal might require me to start over. At the same time, my mother was unemployed, and my father was working overnight shifts in addition to two daytime shifts to support our household and help pay for my community-college education. Some days, I saw him only in passing. During our adjustment, I worked at a juice bar and used my earnings to purchase groceries for our family. Those experiences made me grow up quickly. They also taught me that perseverance is not always dramatic. Sometimes it looks like attending class, completing an assignment, and continuing to plan for the future while your family is still trying to survive the present. I now study Biology/Pre-Medicine at Essex County College and have earned a 3.88 cumulative GPA. I made the Spring 2026 Dean’s List, joined Phi Theta Kappa, and became involved in the ECC Student Ambassadors Program. I am proud of these accomplishments because they prove that restarting my education did not erase my ability or ambition. My interest in neuroscience began with my younger brother, who was diagnosed with autism when he was three years old. Growing up beside him made me wonder how he experienced the world, why his brain processed communication differently, and how research could help families understand neurodivergence with greater compassion. Those questions became the foundation of my career goal. I plan to transfer into a neuroscience program, earn a bachelor’s degree, and eventually pursue a Ph.D. I want to research autism, neurodivergence, behavior, and neuromusicology, particularly how music affects mental health from a neurological perspective. In the future, I hope to establish a neurodevelopment institute in Nigeria and create scholarships for young people who are passionate about science but lack financial opportunity. Receiving the Concrete Rose Scholarship would help cover textbooks, laboratory materials, transportation, and other educational costs that currently place pressure on my family. It would give me greater freedom to pursue research, laboratory, and internship opportunities instead of making every academic decision according to what we can afford immediately. To me, a concrete rose represents more than surviving difficult circumstances. It represents continuing to grow without allowing those circumstances to determine the limits of your future. I have crossed countries, restarted college, and continued pursuing a demanding scientific goal while my family rebuilds its life. I am still growing through the concrete, and this scholarship would help me continue becoming the researcher, advocate, and source of opportunity I hope to be.

Some days, I see my father only in passing. He works overnight shifts while also taking on two daytime shifts to support our family. Sometimes he barely comes home, not because he does not want to, but because he is doing everything possible to keep us afloat. When my family moved from Nigeria to the United States in December 2025, our greatest challenge was having to find a way to survive and rebuild our lives immediately. We entered a new country without the financial stability or dependable support system that families often need during such a major transition. My mother was unemployed, and my father’s income had to cover our household expenses, groceries, and the cost of my community-college education. His relatives were not as supportive as we had hoped, so there was little time to adjust gradually. We had to understand a new environment, manage limited resources, and begin rebuilding almost at once. I quickly realized that being a student could not be my only responsibility. I worked at a juice bar and used my earnings to purchase groceries for our household. My contribution did not solve every financial problem, but it relieved one immediate burden. It taught me that responsibility is not always about having enough to fix everything. Sometimes it means recognizing what you can do and doing it faithfully. Watching my father sacrifice his time, energy, and rest has changed how I understand education. College is not something I take for granted. It is an opportunity my family works tremendously hard to make possible. Knowing this has motivated me to remain focused even while adapting to a different country and academic system. At Essex County College, I have earned a 3.88 cumulative GPA, made the Spring 2026 Dean’s List, joined Phi Theta Kappa, and become a member of the ECC Student Ambassadors Program. This transition has shaped me into someone who adapts quickly, values limited resources, and pays attention to struggles that may not be visible. My father’s exhaustion is not always obvious to others, just as many immigrant families carry difficulties behind ordinary appearances. Because of this, I try to approach people with compassion and contribute wherever I can. Our experience has also strengthened my determination to pursue neuroscience. My younger brother’s autism inspired my interest in neurodivergence and the relationship between the brain and behavior. I eventually hope to conduct research, establish a neurodevelopment institute in Nigeria, and create scholarships for underprivileged students passionate about science. My family’s challenge is not a finished story. We are still working toward stability. However, it has taught me how to move forward without waiting for circumstances to become perfect. Receiving this scholarship would ease part of the financial pressure my father carries and help me continue turning our difficult beginning into a future that honors my parents’ sacrifices and creates opportunities for others.

Before I understood words such as administration, media strategy, or community organizing, I was already learning them through service at the Redeemed Christian Church of God in Nigeria. RCCG was more than my place of worship. It was the first community that trusted me with meaningful responsibility and taught me that faith should be demonstrated through service. I began serving as a choir member in July 2021 at the Parish and Area levels. My commitment later led to my selection for the Provincial Teens Mass Choir. From January 2023 through December 2024, I served as its Assistant Choir Coordinator. I helped organize rehearsals, support members, and prepare the choir for ministry programs and competitions. Working with people who were both older and younger than I was taught me that leadership is not determined by age or visibility. It is demonstrated through preparation, humility, reliability, and a willingness to help others succeed. My service expanded beyond music. I contributed to regional and provincial choirs while also serving in media, registration, and administrative departments. In registration, I created and managed Google Forms, organized spreadsheets, retrieved information, prepared reports, communicated through email, and helped coordinate programs. For one event, I assisted with registration involving approximately 223 attendees. That experience showed me that administration is also a form of ministry. When information is handled carefully and systems work properly, people feel welcomed, considered, and supported. On December 24, 2024, I was elected Vice President of the RCCG Lagos Province 28 Junior Church. I served until September 12, 2025, helping coordinate activities for children and teenagers, supporting other leaders, and guiding younger members who looked to us for direction. My work also led to an invitation to contribute to the Provincial Youth Media Team. After moving to the United States, the lessons I learned at RCCG continued to shape how I served. They prepared me to become involved in the ECC Student Ambassadors Program at Essex County College, where I help support my campus community. They also influence my future goals. I hope to return to Nigeria, establish scholarships for underprivileged students who are passionate about science, and create a neurodevelopment institute that conducts research while supporting children and families. My involvement in church did not simply give me activities to place on a résumé. It taught me to view every skill as something entrusted to me for the benefit of others. RCCG showed me that service can happen through a song, a spreadsheet, an organized program, or a word of encouragement. Most importantly, it taught me that Christian leadership is stewardship: recognizing what God has placed in my hands and using it faithfully to help other people flourish.

My curiosity about the brain began before I knew the word “neuroscience.” When my younger brother was diagnosed with autism at three years old, I began wondering how he experienced the world, why his brain processed communication differently, and how research could help families understand neurodivergence with greater compassion. Those questions stayed with me and eventually became an academic purpose. I began studying Anatomy at Lead City University in Nigeria. After moving to the United States with my family in December 2025, I had to rebuild my academic path at Essex County College. I now study Biology/Pre-Medicine and hold a 3.88 cumulative GPA. I made the Spring 2026 Dean’s List, joined Phi Theta Kappa, and became a member of the ECC Student Ambassadors Program. What motivates me is the possibility that a personal question can become research that improves someone else’s life. I am particularly interested in autism, neurodivergence, behavior, and neuromusicology, including how music affects mental health from a neurological perspective. If I could devote my life to anything, I would earn a bachelor’s degree and Ph.D. in neuroscience and conduct research that makes neurological knowledge more useful and accessible. I eventually hope to return to Nigeria, establish scholarships for underprivileged students passionate about science, and open a neurodevelopment institute that combines research with support for children and families. I want people like my brother to be understood as whole individuals, and I want my education to create opportunities that continue far beyond me. What excites me about STEM is its ability to transform curiosity into evidence. A question about why the brain responds differently to sound, stress, emotion, or communication can lead to an experiment, a pattern in data, and eventually a discovery that improves someone’s life. Although my long-term field is neuroscience, information technology is essential to the research I hope to conduct. Neuroscientists rely on brain-imaging software, electronic health databases, computational models, machine learning, and secure systems for organizing sensitive research information. These tools can reveal patterns that researchers may not recognize through observation alone. I am especially interested in using technology to study autism and neurodivergence and to explore how music affects mental health. With responsible data analysis, researchers may be able to better understand how neurological responses vary between individuals and translate those findings into more personalized support for patients and families. I have already experienced how digital systems can increase the impact of service. While serving in the registration department of my church’s Junior Church, I used Google Forms and spreadsheets to organize information for an event involving approximately 223 attendees. The work happened behind the scenes, but it helped leaders communicate clearly and serve participants efficiently. My goal is not to use technology merely because it is advanced. I want to use it to understand people more accurately, strengthen neurological and mental-health research, and make scientific knowledge accessible to underserved communities. In the future, I hope to bring these tools into a neurodevelopment institute in Nigeria so that families who are often excluded from scientific progress can benefit from it. My greatest challenge has been rebuilding my education while my family was still trying to establish stability in a new country. We moved from Nigeria to the United States in December 2025 without knowing how much of my previous university education would transfer or how we would manage the cost of beginning again. My mother is unemployed, and my father works overnight shifts in addition to two daytime shifts to support our household and help cover my community-college expenses. Some days, I see him only in passing. Understanding the weight he carries made it impossible for me to treat education casually. During our adjustment, I worked at a juice bar and used my earnings to purchase groceries for our household. I was learning a new academic system, restarting college, working, and watching my parents carry an enormous financial burden. There was no moment when the difficulty simply disappeared, so I learned to create stability through the decisions I could control. I built a structured academic routine, stayed focused on my courses, and sought ways to become involved at ECC. I earned a 3.88 cumulative GPA, made the Spring 2026 Dean’s List, joined Phi Theta Kappa, and became an ECC Student Ambassador. I cannot say that my family has completely overcome this challenge because we are still living through it. However, I have learned how to continue building a future inside uncertain circumstances. The experience taught me that resilience is not pretending that a hardship is over. It is responding with discipline, accepting responsibility, and continuing to move forward while helping the people you love survive the present.

My goal did not begin with a textbook. It began with questions I could not yet name. When my younger brother was diagnosed with autism at three years old, I wondered how he perceived the world, what shaped his behavior, and why two people could experience the same environment differently. As I grew older, those questions became an interest in autism, neurodivergence, and the relationship between the brain and behavior. They also became a plan: I want to become a neuroscience researcher. I first pursued that interest by studying Anatomy in Nigeria. After moving to the United States, I continued my education as a Biology/Pre-Medicine student at Essex County College. I have earned a 3.88 GPA, made the Dean’s List, joined Phi Theta Kappa, and become an ECC Student Ambassador. My next step is to complete my associate degree, transfer to Rutgers University, and earn my bachelor’s degree in neuroscience by 2028. Beyond my bachelor’s degree, I intend to pursue research training and a Ph.D. My developing interest in neuromusicology has also given me a more specific question to explore: how does music affect mental health from a neurological perspective? Reaching this goal requires more than ambition, so I have calculated the cost and considered several paths for meeting it. My remaining education at ECC will cost approximately $6,173. At Rutgers, I estimate $38,000 for two years of fall and spring tuition and fees, plus $10,000 for summer sessions. I have budgeted another $2,000 for books and laboratory materials, $1,800 for twenty-four monthly bus passes at $75 each, and $15,000 for accommodation. My estimated total is $72,973. I currently have $8,115 in grants, leaving a funding gap of $64,858. My mother is unemployed, and my father works demanding shifts to support our household and help pay my community-college expenses. I am also currently unemployed, so I cannot honestly list income that I do not have. Instead, my plan is to apply for external and Phi Theta Kappa scholarships, pursue additional financial aid, seek work-study or part-time employment, and use summer classes to remain on track for graduation. This $1,315 scholarship would cover most of my projected $2,000 in books and laboratory materials, leaving only $685 of that expense uncovered. I am also building ìṣẹ̀dá, a creative studio developed from the graphic-design and administrative skills I gained through years of church service. It has not produced income or paying clients yet, but I already have portfolio work, a brand identity, and defined services. Approximately $2,000 in certified graphic-design and brand-identity training, separate from my degree budget, would help me turn those existing skills into paid work. I plan to pursue separate certification funding and eventually direct part of ìṣẹ̀dá’s earnings toward my education. It is not a substitute for my neuroscience goal. It is one practical way I am preparing to help finance it. My plan accounts for where I am, what I lack, and what I can do next. I cannot control every financial obstacle, but I can keep planning my work and working my plan. With each scholarship, completed course, and opportunity I pursue, I move closer to conducting research that may help families like mine better understand the minds of the people they love.

1. I found TXT in my freshman year of college in Nigeria in October 2024 2. I think the most important characteristic of a MOA is the ability to function in unity with people 3. My TXT bias is SOOBIN. I chose him because I see him as a Great Dane. He’s someone who leads softly. He carries a lot of influence but doesn’t have to enforce authority on anyone before getting things done. 4. My ult bias is Sunghoon from ENHYPEN. 5. I love 0x1=LOVESONG. At the time I started listening to TXT, this was the first song I ever heard, and it made me cry. At the time I didn’t understand the lyrics, but when I read them I cried even harder the next time I listened to the song. I didn’t have my person at the time, the “person” being the one the song talks about. I didn’t have anyone that made my life feel beautiful because they were in it. The song gave me hope that I would find that person. And I did. 6. I have never seen TXT in person sadly, my parents wouldn’t let me plus I used to live in Nigeria and only moved to the United States last year so I never had the chance to. 7. My favorite album concept is The Chaos Chapter: FREEZE, if I haven’t already hinted at that. The notion of being young and drowned in chaos in life but being brought to a still and finding meaning again, through one person, really resonates with me. In the 0x1 concept of turning zero into a one through love, is what I felt when I first heard 0x1=LOVESONG. It felt like TXT had experienced the kind of loneliness I had felt, how it felt like everything was falling apart and I was waiting for MY person to change that. 8. I apply for financial aid, but it barely covers my entire tuition, so my father borrows from his siblings in order to couple it with my financial aid to pay my tuition on time, and then he pays his siblings back over months. 9. The scholarship will go towards my savings for Rutgers University. I got admission to transfer there to study Neuroscience but had to decline it because I cannot afford the tuition I would be charged this year since I am still considered a foreigner. By next year, I would be considered a resident and my tuition would be slashed almost in half, which would make saving easier, and enrolling much more realistic. 10. TXT has changed my perspective on love and fate. I used to believe that I would never find THE ONE. That I would never find my person. I used to believe that “soulmates” is just a concept, and isn’t real, no matter the period of time they spend in your life. But TXT changed that, through that one song, 0x1=LOVESONG. If I were to describe my life before I found TXT through a TXT song, it would be Anti-Romantic. I didn’t believe in love. TXT gave me hope to wait on love, and now, I believe. 11. My long term goal is to get a PhD in Neuroscience. My brother was diagnosed with autism at the age of three, and he’s turning 12 this year. Growing up with him, I became intrigued in how the human brain is a universal entity but is so subjective to the owner and different from every other. With my education, I plan to conduct research in neurodivergence and shed light on the strengths of autism and neurodivergence, shifting the narrative from the negative (stigmatization of people living with autism), into positive (seeing neurodivergence as a superpower).

I did not grow up thinking about neuroscience the way most people discover a career, through a class or a documentary. I came to it through something far more personal. Watching someone I love struggle with a condition that affected their brain, their memory, their ability to be fully present, made me ask questions I could not let go of. Why does the brain fail the people who need it most? Who gets to study it, and who gets left out of that conversation entirely? Those questions are what pushed me toward neuroscience, and they are what keep me going now. I completed my freshman year at Lead City University in Ibadan, Nigeria, and moved to the United States in December 2025. Starting over academically in a new country is not easy. I had to navigate a new system, a new campus, and a new set of expectations while adjusting to a completely different environment. But I enrolled at Essex County College in Newark, New Jersey, because I knew that every semester I completed here was a step toward something bigger. I am pursuing an associate’s degree in Biology with a Pre-Medicine focus, and my plan is to transfer to Rutgers University to major in Neuroscience with a minor in Data Science. My long-term goal is to become a neuroimaging technician and researcher, with a focus on neurodivergence and neuromusicology. I am drawn to neuroimaging because it sits at the intersection of technology and human understanding. It is the tool that lets us actually see what is happening inside the brain, and I want to be someone who knows how to use it, interpret it, and build on it. Neurodivergence interests me because there is still so much stigma around the way some brains are wired, and not enough research driven by genuine curiosity and care. Neuromusicology, the study of how music affects and interacts with the brain, feels like one of the most underexplored and exciting areas in the field. I want to be part of the research that pushes those conversations forward. Higher education is not optional for the path I am on. Building a research career in neuroscience requires years of academic preparation, lab experience, and hands-on exposure to imaging technology and research methodology. I cannot do any of that without the foundation I am building right now. Every biology course, every chemistry lab, every paper I write is part of the larger structure I need. This scholarship would help me stay focused on that foundation without the constant weight of financial stress pulling my attention away from what matters. Being a low-income student in a science track is its own kind of challenge. Textbooks are expensive. Lab fees add up. Research opportunities are often unpaid. I am not saying this to ask for sympathy. I am saying it because it is the reality, and it matters that people who fund scholarships like this one understand what it actually costs to pursue science when you are not starting from a place of financial security. I work hard because I have to, and I do not have the option of coasting. What I plan to create with this education goes beyond my own career. I want to contribute to research that changes how we understand brains that work differently, whether that is through studying neurodivergence with more compassion and rigor, or exploring how music can be used as a therapeutic or diagnostic tool. I also want to be a presence in spaces that are not always accessible to people from backgrounds like mine. Science needs more perspectives, more people who ask different questions because they have lived different lives. I am sixteen years old, I am building my academic record from scratch in a new country, and I am completely committed to this path. Higher education is not just a requirement for the career I want. It is how I become someone who is actually equipped to contribute something meaningful to the field of neuroscience. This scholarship would not just help me pay for school. It would tell me that the work I am doing is seen, that the future I am building matters, and that investing in someone like me is worth it. It is.

I’m a Biology/Pre-Medicine student at Essex County College in Newark, New Jersey, and I’m on a path I’ve been building toward for most of my life. I was born and raised in Nigeria, where I completed my first year of university before making the decision to move to the United States in December 2025. Starting over in a new country mid-degree wasn’t easy. There were moments of doubt, moments of exhaustion, and moments where the distance between where I was and where I wanted to be felt overwhelming. But none of that slowed me down. If anything, it made me more intentional about every step I take. My long-term goal is to become a neuroscience research scientist. I plan to transfer to Rutgers University to major in Neuroscience with a minor in Data Science, and from there, pursue graduate school. Neuroscience didn’t feel like a choice I made so much as a direction I was pulled toward. When someone close to me experienced a serious neurological health crisis, I watched my family navigate a situation that felt foreign and frightening. We didn’t always understand what was happening or why. We didn’t have access to people who could explain it in a way that made sense to us. That experience changed something in me. It turned a general passion for science into something deeply personal and specific. I stopped thinking about research as an abstract pursuit and started seeing it as something with real consequences for real people. Growing up, I also observed how communities like the ones I come from, both in Nigeria and here in Newark, are consistently left behind when it comes to scientific progress and healthcare advancement. The findings that come out of research labs don’t always reach the people who need them most. I want to help close that gap. My goal is to contribute to neuroscience research that is not only rigorous but meaningful, work that moves us closer to understanding and treating conditions that devastate families every single day. To get there, I’m building the strongest foundation I can right now. I’m maintaining a strong GPA, seeking out research opportunities, applying to honors programs, and developing skills in data science alongside my biology coursework. I chose data science as a minor because I believe the future of neuroscience research lives at the intersection of biology and technology. The ability to analyze complex datasets, model brain activity, and interpret large-scale research findings is becoming essential in this field, and I want to be prepared for that. Being an immigrant, a first-generation student, and a young woman pursuing one of the most demanding fields in STEM comes with its own set of challenges. But it also gives me a perspective I think is genuinely valuable. I know what it means to build something from nothing. I know what it feels like to be in a situation where the resources you need aren’t readily available. That awareness shapes how I approach my work and why I care so much about what research can do for communities that have historically been overlooked. This scholarship would mean more than financial support. It would be an investment in someone who is fully committed to using science as a tool for change. I’m not just studying neuroscience to advance my own career. I’m studying it because I believe the work I do can matter to people beyond a lab. I’m asking for the chance to prove that.

Serving my community is important to me because I believe that true success is not measured only by personal achievement, but by the positive impact I have on the people around me. Growing up in Nigeria, I have seen how communities depend on shared responsibility, care, and consistency to thrive. These experiences shaped my understanding that even small acts of service can create meaningful and lasting change in people’s lives. In my family, I learned responsibility early by contributing to daily tasks and supporting those around me. This taught me discipline, empathy, and awareness of other people’s needs. It also helped me understand that service often begins in the home, through simple acts of care and accountability. These values have carried into my involvement in my church community, where I serve as a regional worker in my fellowship. In this role, I help organize programs, support younger students, and participate in activities that promote unity and spiritual growth. Through this experience, I have learned that service is not always about large or visible actions, but about being dependable, present, and willing to help when needed. Serving my community is also important to me because I care deeply about encouraging others, especially students. I often support my peers by motivating them to stay focused on their academics and personal development, even when things become difficult. I have realized that many people are not necessarily lacking ability, but are simply in need of encouragement, direction, or someone who believes in them. Being that source of support, even in small ways, is something I value greatly because it reminds me that kindness and consistency can influence someone’s path. My interest in neuroscience further strengthens my commitment to service. As I learn more about how the brain influences behavior, emotions, and mental health, I have become more aware of how much misunderstanding and stigma still exist around mental health in many communities. I want to help bridge that gap by promoting awareness and understanding, especially among young people, so that more individuals feel safe to seek help and better understand their experiences. After my education, I plan to stay actively involved in my community through youth mentorship, educational support, and mental health awareness initiatives. I want to use my knowledge and experiences to help others feel supported, informed, and empowered to reach their potential. Ultimately, serving my community is important to me because it gives purpose to my education and meaning to my goals. It is a lifelong responsibility that I intend to continue carrying wherever I go, because I believe a life of impact is a life well lived.

The American Dream, to me, is deeply personal and constantly evolving. It is not just about success in the traditional sense, but about becoming someone who matters, someone whose life has purpose, direction, and impact. As a neuroscience student, I see the American Dream as the opportunity to turn my curiosity about the human brain into something meaningful, something that contributes to improving lives and advancing knowledge. It represents the freedom to pursue my passion without limitations and to build a future that reflects both my ambition and my values. It is about having access to spaces where my ideas are valued and where I am given the chance to grow into the person I envision. A major part of that dream is financial freedom. I want to reach a point where I am not just surviving, but truly secure and independent. Financial stability, to me, means being able to support myself comfortably, but it goes far beyond that. It means being able to give my parents the security they deserve after everything they have sacrificed for me. I want to ease their burdens, to make sure they never have to worry about basic needs or uncertainty again. That, in itself, is a core part of what success looks like to me, because my achievements are not just mine alone. It also means building a future where my income alone can sustain my family. I want to create a life where stability is not fragile, where my children grow up with opportunities, safety, and access to the best education possible. I want to build generational stability, not just temporary comfort. The American Dream gives me the belief that through hard work, discipline, and consistency, that level of stability is achievable, even when the journey is not easy. Beyond financial success, the American Dream is about relevance and influence. I want to be a person whose voice carries weight in my professional field, someone who contributes to meaningful conversations and real solutions. Coming from Nigeria, my vision extends beyond one country. I want to build a career that allows me to make an impact both in the United States and back home. Whether through research, innovation, or mentorship, I want to contribute to growth and development in both spaces, creating opportunities for others just as I have been given opportunities. Ultimately, the American Dream is about rising above limitations and creating a life that reflects who I truly am. It is about growth, impact, financial stability, and legacy. It is the chance to not only change my own life, but to positively influence the lives of my family, my community, and the generations that come after me. It is about building a future that is bigger than me, one that leaves a lasting mark.

My name is Nanette Fasasi, and I am an international student from Nigeria with a deep curiosity about the human mind and a strong desire to make knowledge accessible to others. Growing up, I learned early that education is one of the most powerful tools a person can have. It not only opens doors but also equips people to solve problems that affect their communities. That belief has shaped the goals I have for my future. I plan to pursue neuroscience because I am fascinated by the complexity of the brain and how it influences behavior, emotion, learning, and mental health. Understanding how the brain works is not only scientifically interesting to me, but it also has the potential to change lives. Mental health and neurological conditions are still widely misunderstood in many communities, including some parts of my home country. Because of this, many people who struggle with mental health challenges do not receive the support they need. One of my long term goals is to start a neuroscience initiative that focuses on community education and accessible mental health support. I hope to create a program that provides free mental health resources and guidance to individuals who cannot afford professional care. Mental health support should not be considered a luxury, and I want to help create systems where people can receive information, counseling resources, and support without financial barriers. Another important part of my vision is spreading awareness about neurodivergence. Conditions such as autism are often misunderstood, which can lead to stigma, isolation, and a lack of proper support for those who are neurodivergent. Through my initiative, I hope to organize autism awareness workshops that educate families, students, and community members about neurodivergence. These workshops would focus on understanding neurological differences, promoting acceptance, and helping people learn how to better support neurodivergent individuals in schools, workplaces, and everyday life. Beyond education, I also want to inspire young students who are curious about science but may not see themselves represented in STEM fields. By sharing knowledge and creating accessible learning spaces, I hope to encourage others to pursue scientific careers and use their talents to improve society. Ultimately, the impact I want to make is rooted in compassion and knowledge. By combining neuroscience with community outreach, I hope to help build a world where mental health is taken seriously, neurological differences are respected, and scientific understanding is used to uplift people rather than exclude them. My goal is not only to study the brain, but also to use what I learn to support communities and create meaningful change.

Growing up in Nigeria, I often experienced ageism in subtle but frustrating ways. Many adults believed that because I was young, my ideas were not fully formed or worth considering. There were times when I wanted to contribute in conversations or suggest improvements, but I hesitated because I assumed my voice would be overlooked. Even so, I refused to accept that my age determined my value. I carried a strong mindset that usefulness is defined by effort, character, and willingness to serve, not by how old someone is. One of the places where I learned this lesson most clearly was in my church choir. I joined the provincial teens mass choir and sang as a tenor. At first, I simply focused on doing my part well, learning harmonies, attending rehearsals, and supporting the choir however I could. Over time, my consistency and dedication were noticed, and I was appointed assistant choir coordinator. That role pushed me beyond just singing. I began helping organize rehearsals, encouraging other members, and supporting the choir coordinator in preparing us for programs and competitions within the church. One experience stands out to me vividly. Our choir was preparing for a major church competition, and the pressure was high because several choirs from other parishes were also competing. Some people doubted whether our group could stand out. Instead of allowing those doubts to discourage us, I tried to motivate the choir. I reminded everyone that each voice mattered and that when we worked together with discipline and confidence, our sound would reflect our dedication. We practiced tirelessly, refining harmonies and strengthening our unity as a group. When the competition day finally arrived, the performance felt powerful. Our voices blended beautifully, and the energy we shared as a choir was undeniable. By the end of that season, our choir had won three competitions within the church. For me, those victories represented more than trophies. They were proof that young people can lead, contribute, and create meaningful impact when they are given the opportunity. That experience changed the way I see my voice. I learned that confidence is not about being the loudest person in the room, but about believing that what you contribute has value. Communication sometimes means speaking up, but it can also mean leading through action, encouragement, and consistency. In the future, I hope to continue using my voice to challenge assumptions about young people and to inspire others to believe that their age does not limit their ability to make a difference.

I come from a family that takes pride in raising trophy children. My uncles and aunts are proud of their children’s academic achievements and career accomplishments, using the schools they graduated from and their places of work as a measure of success. Growing up in this environment, I understood early that excellence was not just encouraged, it was expected. And while that standard has pushed me to aim high, my deepest motivations have never been about trophies. My interest in Neuroscience is deeply personal. I have a younger brother who was diagnosed with Autism at the age of three, and growing up with him shaped my curiosity about how the human brain works. I often found myself wondering how life looks like from his perspective, how he processes experiences, and how neurodivergence influences perception and behavior. While my cousins collected accolades, I was collecting questions, questions that could not be answered by a prestigious degree alone, but by genuine dedication to understanding the human mind. Watching my brother navigate a world that was not always designed for him taught me something that no classroom could: that science, at its best, is an act of empathy. Every therapy session he attended, every milestone he reached in his own time, and every moment he found his own way of connecting with the world around him deepened my resolve to study the brain, not as an abstract organ, but as the seat of someone’s entire lived experience. I want to understand what he understands, see what he sees, and one day contribute to research that makes life more accessible and more understood for people like him. This is why I am pursuing an associate’s degree at Essex County College, with plans to transfer to Rutgers University to major in Neuroscience with a minor in Data Science. I believe that combining a deep understanding of the brain with the analytical tools of data science will position me to contribute meaningfully to modern neurological research. My academic path has not been without its challenges, but every step has been taken with intention and purpose. Getting this scholarship would be a step closer to saving enough for tuition once I transfer to Rutgers University, and would be more of an encouragement to continue working towards achieving my dreams. It would affirm that my story, shaped by family expectations, a brother who changed how I see the world, and a genuine love for science, is worth investing in. I am not chasing a trophy. I am chasing understanding.