The smell of sea salt on beaches, cool breezes, palm trees, and curry—these are the things I mull over when life in the city consumes me. It reminds me that I am still, and forever will be, an island girl. I was born in the Land of the Hummingbird, better known as Trinidad and Tobago. Migrating from a small island to a big city in the United States made me feel hopeful, giddy, uncertain, and insignificant. Like many immigrants, my mother came to America for a better life, sending money home to support our family. At the time, my household was unsafe with adults battling addiction, which led to years of abuse. My brother and I made wishes on chicken wishbones, silently hoping our mom would take us away. In 2004, our wishes came true. I still remember my mom looking at the phone card she used to call and confront my Dad. I remember the beeping sounds as she dialed his number. I remember looking at my older brother and seeing the panic on his face. We did not worry about our belongings or the friends we’d left behind. We would finally be with our mom. The wishbone worked; Brooklyn was my new home. Except, it didn't feel like home, at least not at first. The cultural shock was overwhelming. My classmates mocked my accent, so I tried to change it. My clothes weren’t name-brand, another reason I stood out. No matter how hard I tried, I never quite fit in. My grades slipped, and I eventually dropped out of school, feeling lost and detached from everything America had to offer. Counseling helped me find my way back. It gave me the tools to overcome my emotions and how I reacted to situations. I took my GED exam and passed on the first try. That small victory reignited something in me. I wrote down a list of everything I wanted to achieve, and at the top of that list was going to college. Today, I am proud of what I have accomplished. I graduated with high honors from LaGuardia Community College in December 2022, earning an associate’s degree in Education. I’ve been on the Dean’s List multiple times and currently maintain a 4.0 GPA. Now, I attend Brooklyn College, dual majoring in Communication Sciences and Disorders and Psychology, with double minors in Neuroscience and Philosophy. During one of my internships at college, I met people who had been misdiagnosed with speech disorders simply because of their accents. Their experiences reinforced why I refuse to let linguistic bias go unchallenged. No one should ever feel like they have to erase a part of themselves just to be understood. I want to advocate for voices that have been overlooked for too long. I plan to become a Speech-Language Pathologist, working with people in low-income communities to ensure language differences aren’t mistaken for deficits. At the same time, I want to help those with actual language disorders get the support they need. Eventually, I’d like to earn a Ph.D. and contribute to the field of Immunology. My mother’s Multiple Sclerosis diagnosis is what initially made me curious about neurological disorders and how they affect communication. I want to research ways to improve the lives of people facing these conditions. I also plan to continue fighting for language inclusivity. Language carries history, culture, and identity, and no one should feel like they have to change the way they speak to be respected. I hope to create programs that help people embrace their linguistic roots while also equipping educators and clinicians with the tools to better serve diverse communities. I want to be a source of inspiration for others who feel marginalized or unheard. The girl whose voice was once mocked is now using it to amplify the voices of others. My experience has taught me a lesson in resilience—no matter the circumstances, my past does not define my future. My greatest achievement is not just overcoming my past, it’s realizing that I have the power to create change, and I will dedicate my future to doing just that.

Resilience is the ability to withstand adversity and emerge stronger. This definition has become a mantra that has guided my life's narrative. As a first-generation student and adult learner who's experienced my fair share of hardships and challenges, I've embraced resilience as my armor and driving force. My journey has equipped me with the tools to overcome obstacles, and I'm determined to uplift others from underrepresented communities—a community I proudly belong to. I was born in Trinidad and Tobago and grew up surrounded by the warm embrace of the Caribbean Sea. However, life on my blissful island became tainted by household struggles and an environment marked by addiction and abuse. My mother, a resilient woman in her own right, made the courageous decision to immigrate to the United States, leaving our family behind in search of a better life. Her journey, though driven by hope, was filled with uncertainty, hardships, and an overwhelming sense of responsibility as she sent money home to support me and my brother. A few years later, we migrated to Brooklyn, NY. It was a stark contrast to the carefree island life I had known. Cultural shock and environmental differences were only the beginning of my struggles. I was bullied for my accent and ridiculed for my clothing, which lacked the allure of name brands. I yearned to fit in but felt like an outsider in a sea of unfamiliarity. This sense of isolation and past circumstances took a toll on my mental health, leading to a period of depression, skipping classes, and, ultimately, dropping out of high school. In this dark chapter of my life, resilience became my lifeline. My foundation was crumbled but not destroyed. I gained confidence by seeking help through counseling and other resources. I eventually passed my GED exam and gradually rebuilt my self-esteem. During this process, I made a list of my dreams and educational goals, and one of them was to attend college. I now proudly have an Associate's degree in Education, graduating from LaGuardia Community College with a 4.0 GPA. I'm currently pursuing dual degrees in Communication Sciences and Disorders and Psychology at Brooklyn College, with minors in Philosophy and Neuroscience. Afterward, I will attain a Master's degree in Speech-Language Pathology and a Ph.D. in an area related to neuroscience and Multiple Sclerosis (MS). I am particularly interested in neurogenic speech disorders. My long-term research interest is stem cell therapy for Multiple Sclerosis (MS), which can potentially transform many lives, including my mother, who battles this disease. MS has no known cure, and I am determined to be a part of the solution. My dream extends beyond individual success, and The Jillian Ellis Pathway Scholarship would support me by helping to break financial barriers, enabling me to continue my education. I aspire to empower individuals from underrepresented communities by providing them with access to quality education and healthcare. My passion for Speech-Language Pathology is deeply rooted in my desire to help those who are marginalized and overlooked. I've witnessed how language barriers and dialect stigmatization can create barriers to education and professional advancements. In addition to assisting individuals with neurogenic speech disorders, I'm committed to de-stigmatizing linguistic discrimination and accent bias alongside advocating for individuals from all linguistic backgrounds. Resilience is not merely a quality; it's a story of survival, transformation, and empowerment. My journey from a tumultuous childhood and high school dropout to an aspiring Speech-Language Pathologist is a testament to the power of what makes me resilient. My past does not define my future, and I am determined to empower others to believe the same.

Labels: they're all around us. Some say it reflects a partial definition of who we are, while others want to rid themselves of innocuous titles and generalizations. Either way, we all can think of ways to describe ourselves or let society define us. Since migrating from Trinidad and Tobago to the United States in 2004, several labels have followed me. Including immigrant, high school dropout, first-generation college student, dreamer/DACA recipient, and soon, college graduate. In 2021, at the height of the dreadful Covid-19 pandemic, I enrolled at LaGuardia as an Education major. Growing up in a large family and a multicultural and ethnically diverse environment fueled my desire to learn from others. Celebrating holidays and traditions from various people, cultures, and ethnic backgrounds was commonplace throughout my childhood. I remember hearing different languages spoken by respected elders throughout the island. My favorite holiday as a child was Diwali, also known as the Festival of Lights. My friends and I, some speaking Hindi, some not, would gather around painting and lighting deyas (small clay lamps), dressed in bright-colored costumes, celebrating light over darkness and good overcoming evil. I mention this day because, in retrospect, it makes me appreciate my upbringing. I love being around diverse dialects, languages, and cultures. Learning about and from everyone, even when they have different views or beliefs than my own, is immensely important. At LaGuardia Community College, I naturally gravitated toward ELL 101: Introduction to Language. This course taught me about language acquisition, sentence structures, phonology, and how language evolves as society changes. It was fascinating to discover the multifaceted elements of these intricacies. During the semester, my professor emailed me about the National Science Foundation-Research Experiences for Undergraduates in the Intersection of Linguistics, Language, and Culture. Shortly after, I applied and was accepted to the NSF-REU, undergoing my first year-long research experience. From that point on, my college trajectory shifted. Conducting research with the help of my mentor and having hands-on experience pertaining to the advancements, issues, and interests within the field of linguistics, language, and culture was transformative. Suddenly, words and intonations held deeper meanings, and research was fun, albeit challenging. I want to learn more and discover answers to questions about code-switching, style-shifting, pitch perception, abnormalities in speech development, attitudes toward bilingualism, autism, and accent bias. During my research experience, I found purpose, a resounding certainty entwined within the unpredictability of life. Even when it became difficult, I pushed through to completion. Ultimately, I knew I wanted to pursue a degree in social sciences, specifically Communication Sciences and Disorders (CSD). In Spring 2023, that is precisely what I will be doing at Queens College. I was accepted and will be majoring in CSD and minoring in Psychology. These degrees will allow me to positively impact the world in a collaborative environment. Barrack Obama once said, "The best way to not feel hopeless is to get up and do something. Don't wait for good things to happen to you. If you go out and make some good things happen, you will fill the world with hope; you will fill yourself with hope." I plan to make his words a reality. In the future, I intend to add another 'label' to my list: Speech Language Pathologist (SLP). I will work alongside children as an SLP, assisting individuals in low-income areas who are marginalized and often overlooked. I still have a lot to learn and accomplish, and I don't know everything. However, I know it would be life-changing to positively contribute and impact the world in any way, through my career as a Speech Language Pathologist.