In September of 2023, during my first semester of college, I fell asleep feeling optimistic after completing my assignments and doing my routine. In the morning I woke up feeling a sharp stabbing pain in my hip. I couldn't walk. I've had crises before, but not like this. I eventually found out I had avascular necrosis in my hip. Despite this being a key moment of adversity in my life, it is not the hardest part about living with sickle cell. Neither are the crises or the constant fatigue. The hardest part has been struggling with the silence. The silence I was told to keep as a child, always told not to discuss my disease so people wouldn't "count me out." The silence I chose in high school, when "I'm fine" and "It's nothing" became the most frequent words in my vocabulary - protecting the life I knew, or the life I fabricated for others. The silence in my dorm the morning I couldn't walk - what should have been a chatty routine with my roommate became a morning of holding in tears and screams so he wouldn't be scared for me, trying not to feel the weight of what was happening to my body. And the silence after losing another member of the community to sickle cell. After months of skipping classes and pretending everything was fine, the people around me could tell I was not okay. My roommate, Daniel, kept asking if I was alright, and eventually I could not stay silent anymore. He became the first person I told about my sickle cell. Carrying it alone nearly broke me before the illness itself ever could. I was hesitant to open up, but when I finally did, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. What came next surprised me most: support. My roommate showed up for me in ways I did not expect, making sure I took my medication, got enough rest, and reminded me I was not alone. That experience made me realize that much of my fear had been in my own head. The more I shared with people I trusted, the lighter the burden felt. It also taught me something important: people are often kinder than we expect, and a little support, empathy, and care can go a long way. Since that morning with Daniel, I've tried to be the person I needed when I was still pretending to be fine. I fundraise for my school’s National Society of Black Engineers because I know what it’s like not to have the resources that other people may have. I volunteer at a juvenile detention center because I know what it means to be counted out before anyone has bothered to ask. At the IT help desk I work at, I've learned that most people who walk up frustrated are really just tired, and a little bit of patience is sometimes all the help they need. Silence taught me that the smallest acts of being seen are rarely small to the person receiving them. I’m studying computer science and business analytics because of the hope of a better future, one without necrosis in my hip, or student debt, but one where I’m thriving financially and physically. Prince Justice Williams never let sickle cell silence him. He's a reminder to all of us still fighting: to be loud, not silent. To chase the dreams. To speak for those who can't. And most of all, to live this hard life to the fullest. Thank you to the Cole family and all donors for considering me for this scholarship.

Adebimpe Lawal is a beautiful, persistent, endearing mother of four who exudes joy. Anywhere she goes she manages to be the light of the room while repping her culture with pride and joy. She left Nigeria and moved to the United States at the age of forty-four with her four children in the hopes of giving them a better life. Leaving forty-four years of a career, friends, family and a community that she had grown to know and love. It was not easy for her to go from a comfortable life to a life of uncertainty, navigating this new environment without the support of her community that she made back home. She made the hardest thing she had been through seem like it was an easy task and I’m glad to be able to say that Adebimpe Lawal is my mother. While my mother’s life is filled with a lot of hardships and struggles, her life is more than that, her life is filled with sacrifices and achievements that are bigger than her. Her children are a testament to that. My younger sister Mojolaife is a bundle of joy, she is kind, witty and very thoughtful, she takes after her mom. My younger sister Morola is the funniest person I know, and the craftiest, she has real passion for biomedicine and intends to go to college to study biomedical engineering. My older sister Mayowa is the most determined person I know, she’s currently an SIUE student studying Cybersecurity, and then there is me. I'm Mayokun and the sacrifices my mother made is part of what makes me who I am. I moved to the United States at the age of twelve with no clue what was coming, it was confusing, and hard but my mother was always that force that guided me. Moving here with her allowed me to see her sacrifices firsthand. I saw my mother fail at so many things like getting her driver’s license, finding a job, paying taxes, but she always got back up and figured it out. I admired how determined she was amid everything she was going through. I could see how much she missed her family and friends back home. Seeing her determination made me promise myself that I was going to get a bachelor’s degree, as she believed that a better life starts with a great education. Every step of the way, she encouraged me while reminding me not to forget where I come from when I make it to higher places. I’m now a sophomore at Saint Louis University majoring in Computer science, and I plan to graduate and give her the life that she deserves. It’s been six years since my mother took that leap of faith. While my mother is not forty-four anymore and I’m not twelve. The goal which she came here for remains the same, which is to provide a better life for her children. My goal is still to give back to my mom what she has given me, which is why I will always get back up when I fail, because that is what she would do. Parents like my mother and Altaf Ramani are just a few examples of the many parents who have sacrificed a lot for their children, and along my journey I want to help as many of those children to achieve their dreams. Thank you to the Ramani family for this opportunity and for recognizing all the parents out there