Illness has a way of shrinking the world. It turns childhoods into hospital hallways and makes hope appear fragile. I strive to reverse these negative expectations by creating solutions to rare genetic illnesses at their molecular source to achieve lasting cures. Nearly 27 years ago today, my father stood on the brink of losing his college education because his low-income family could not afford the crushing weight of his thyroid cancer medical bills on top of tuition. I didn’t learn about his battle until just recently. I couldn’t understand how the strong, level-headed man I looked up to had once been so vulnerable. It made me wonder: how many others are silently fighting their own illnesses without anyone noticing? By 2023, I realized that simply acknowledging one’s suffering was no longer enough. I decided to place myself where support was needed most. This is when I discovered the Super Joey Foundation, where volunteer work includes preparing and serving meals for residents at the Ronald McDonald house, a home away from home for families with sick children. We also provide musical entertainment for the families facing emotional exhaustion and the fear that tomorrow will demand more than they can give. One evening, as I played a violin for some residents, a young boy, no older than eight and in a Paw Patrol t-shirt, sat beside me, listening quietly. He didn’t engage with the other children or speak much at all. When he stood, he used his hands to push off his legs, something I later learned is common in children with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy (DMD), a rare genetic disorder that causes progressive muscle degeneration. He continued to listen as I played classic childhood nursery rhymes. When all was done and the meal was ready to be served, the little boy, whose name I did not catch, hugged my leg and smiled at me. For those few minutes, he wasn’t a patient. He wasn’t defined by his disease. He was just a kid enjoying music. That moment changed how I understood impact. As an undergraduate at The Ohio State University majoring in molecular genetics, I knew immediately that my future in healthcare would focus on rare and often overlooked conditions. Existing treatments for genetic and pulmonary diseases are lifelong, expensive, and focused on symptom management, rather than resolution. I seek to change this. My ambition is to develop affordable, gene-based therapies using CRISPR-Cas9 technology that addresses disease at the molecular level and offer lasting solutions. I want children with rare conditions to grow up outside hospital walls, free to run in their backyards and make memories untouched by medical limitations. While these goals will take years of research and persistence, I believe meaningful change begins long before a lab breakthrough. Nine years ago, a close friend nearly lost his life to Adrenoleukodystrophy (ALD), a rare inherited disorder that destroys the myelin sheath protecting nerve cells. While he survived, thousands of boys are not as fortunate. Since then, we have actively advocated for awareness of ALD through a 5k run, called Run for ALD, Cure the Boys, which has grown to nearly 700 participants. Small acts, sustained over time, create real momentum. Sammy Hason, Sr.’s legacy reminds me that ambition and service strengthen one another. Regardless of the outcome of this scholarship, I will continue to pursue bold goals in healthcare while making small, personal impacts along the way. Progress is not only found in breakthroughs, but in showing up, listening, and refusing to let anyone feel invisible.

As someone who often struggles to make friends, I truly believe that Kalia and I would have formed a meaningful connection. After learning about her legacy—her dedication and her commitment to both academic and athletic excellence—I see so many ways in which we are alike. Yet, at the same time, our differences would have complemented each other perfectly. To start, both Kalia and I share a love for track. There’s something special about being part of a track team—if you’ve ever been on one, you know exactly what I mean. It’s not just a team; it’s a family that celebrates each other’s victories, big or small. During the 2024 track season, I genuinely struggled. It had been months since I achieved a personal record in the 400-meter dash. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't beat my best. I let frustration take over. But the thing about track is that someone is always there to lift you up. For me, that person was Omarion. No matter how much I fell short, he never let me believe I wasn’t good enough. He’d tell me I was the fastest guy he’d ever met and invite me to train with him. He pushed me to be better. Eventually, I did break my PR, and I credit it all to Omarion. From everything I’ve learned about Kalia, she reminds me of Omarion—someone who uplifted those around her, not just hoping they would improve, but by actively helping them get there. If I had the honor of meeting Kalia today, the first thing I’d ask her is, “What’s your secret?” I consider myself a hardworking, determined individual, but some days, it’s tough to keep going. Kalia’s achievements are a testament to the kind of drive I aspire to have. Like Kalia, my aspirations are huge! For years, I’ve been fascinated by genetic engineering and biotechnology. However, my interest in genetics is personal. My father, and many men in my family, have always struggled with male-pattern baldness. For me, I love my hair, and I’ve become determined to find ways to slow, or even reverse, hair loss at a genetic level. The idea that my future research could help others is what excites me. With a commitment to advancing our understanding of genetics, I hope to make real contributions to this field in college and beyond. But what truly makes me believe Kalia and I would have complemented each other isn’t just our similarities, but rather our differences. As a board member of the Black Student Union, I would have loved the opportunity to learn from Kalia, to better understand how I can go beyond words and take meaningful action toward justice and equality. It’s an area where I still have much to learn, and I know Kalia’s leadership would’ve been an incredible guide. At the same time, I wish she could have come with me to volunteer at the local Ronald McDonald House in St. Louis, where we help to cook and serve meals to the families staying there. I genuinely believe she would have loved the conversations and connections that come from listening to, and supporting, those families. And maybe, just maybe, she could have even taught me how to dance! Despite everything, I’m committed to living each day by Kalia’s core values: determination, resilience, exploration, and grit. To Kalia—you are an inspiration. Whether I am awarded this or not, I will continue to run fast like you, continue to uplift others like you, and most importantly, continue to smile while doing it.