“Wa? Where’s that?” I am asked anytime I tell people where I am from. I hail from a small town in Northern Ghana called Wa, meaning “come” in Wali. My family immigrated to the U.S. in 2005 in search of better opportunities for a quality education in America. During the summer before high school, my mother announced that we were returning to Ghana to visit our family. I was excited at the prospect of immersing myself within my culture, enjoying the delectable food. The thought of Ghanaian Fufu, Fanyogo strawberry yogurt, and Kenkey made my mouth drool. Visiting my family, despite the language barrier, also proved rewarding, and I was happy to be in a country where my skin color did not distinguish me. But when I went to Ghana I also listened to their stories. My parent’s village, Wa, was filled with toddlers in ragged clothing, walking barefoot on the dirt. Some people were crippled, without arms or legs, begging for money. My mother’s old home was humid, cramped and mosquitoes were rampant. I met one of my distant cousins and I saw her wearing one of my old dresses. It was a white lace dress with a blue overskirt. But this time it looked overworn, filled with holes and permanent black stains. The stories my mother told me of walking long distances to fetch water and working barefoot on the farm so they could have dinner were now so real to me. But this trip brought me more than just delicious food. My stay with my cousins in Wa was filled with conversations about their lives and the lack of educational resources in their school like technology, books, and desks. They often teased me saying, “Bring me to America, I can fit in your suitcase,” and insisted that I should work hard because they were depending on me. Expanding upon my perspective on life, while learning more about my culture and family history, I felt a pang in my heart hearing that my Grandfather was forced to work for British people transporting mail from village to village. I not only gained a deeper gratitude for my culture and my family but I realized that my relatives rely on me. I gained a new found motivation for my education. I hope to bring my family out of a cycle of poverty by pursuing the things I am passionate about like medicine and advocacy. I hope to provide better access to a quality education in rural communities in Ghana. Schools in rural villages often lack basic educational resources like libraries, textbooks, computers, proper furniture and much more. I hope to create a non profit that can build computer labs, libraries, and provide textbooks in rural village schools. Through education people will have a chance to break the cycle of poverty. Through education Ghana can become a country of innovation. It is through education my aunts, uncles, and cousins will finally be able to feed their families.