“Congratulations, Shawnee Class of 2024, you did it!” I reach for my bedazzled navy blue cap, saying MSU, and throw it into the air as the ceremony ends. In two short months, I will be attending Montclair State University, beginning the next four years of my life. Many people who don’t grow up with their parents experience that loss because their parents passed away, yet I did not lose my parents and was still deprived of the privilege of living with them. Their having me young led to growing up with aunts and uncles instead. When I first arrived in America, I lived with my dad's brother, but because he was a nurse and worked long hours, he could not take care of me. I then moved in with my mom's sister and her husband, who are also nurses, while my grandma lived with them so she could watch over me. Growing up without my parents was very challenging, as there was often a hierarchy between my parents and my aunt and uncle, and I did not know who to turn to. My dad still lives abroad, and although my mom moved to the US after 18 years apart, we still have a distant relationship. Because I understood early on that my circumstances were different, I learned to rely on myself emotionally and academically. I kept my education close to me, recognizing it as something that could create stability and opportunity for my future. Freshman year began in August. Within a week, I had adjusted. I met my roommate, made friends, and began my classes. I knew I was where I was supposed to be. Then my stepmom fell into a coma. My sense of normalcy was gone. Watching her lie still on the hospital bed with wires connected and the monitor beeping made me realize how helpless she must have felt. It showed me how valuable healthcare is and the care she received from her ICU team. Seeing their attention, urgency, and compassion helped me understand that healthcare is not just about treatment but also about supporting patients during their most vulnerable moments. This experience strengthened my desire to pursue healthcare, and I hope to extend that compassionate care to my future patients. Instead of focusing on my classes, my attention shifted to my stepmom’s condition and uncertainty about my tuition. Constant emails about missed payments reminded me of a situation I could not control. By the end of the school year, Montclair had become unmanageable. I spent my summer uncertain about returning and faced the reality that my outstanding fees created a barrier to my education. I could not accept not going to school, so I enrolled in community college as a health science major, en route to nursing school. I still face the challenge of paying my fees and obtaining my transcript, but I continue earning strong grades and made the Dean's List my first semester. Although this barrier limits my access, it has not limited my work ethic. Receiving this scholarship will ensure my path can move forward. It will help me continue my education so I can become a nurse who advocates for patients and, long-term, a doctor through hard work and determination. Because I have experienced the fear and uncertainty of waiting for updates about a loved one’s condition, I understand how vulnerable patients and families feel. This understanding will help me be a supportive and compassionate provider who treats patients medically and supports them emotionally during difficult moments.

Seeing her lie so still in the hospital bed made me question whether she was truly okay. Multiple tubes connected to her, and the steady sound of the monitor filled the room. She was physically there, but it felt like she wasn’t fully present. In that moment, I began to realize that a patient connected to a breathing machine is truly vulnerable. The constant sounds of the monitors can create fear and confusion, especially when every number feels important. In those confusing moments, patients need reassurance and attentiveness. That is the kind of healthcare professional I am committed to becoming. During my first year of college, I received unexpected news about my stepmom falling into a coma. I could not fathom someone I love so deeply, being hooked up to so many machines and having a tube down her throat to help with her breathing. While the tubes supported her breathing, they later impacted her ability to speak without slurring. Seeing her in that condition changed how I saw patients connected to machines and relying on others for care. I am currently pursuing a career as a nurse. As a nurse, I intend to be that supporting role for patients in their time of need by explaining machines so they aren’t overwhelmed and can trust their breathing. I will monitor changes while also responding quickly, and I will comfort families and help them direct their fears into prayer or whatever brings them comfort. I plan to help my patients feel safe, informed, and supported. I want patients and their families with situations like mine to better understand the monitors, reduce their fears, and feel reassured during uncertain moments. Even though my starting point in healthcare is nursing, it will not be my only path. I am working towards being a physician to deepen my understanding of complex diseases and critical conditions. As a doctor, I will not only care for patients scientifically but also help them emotionally, so they have the strength to keep persevering. As a woman, I am especially drawn to women's healthcare, specifically OBGYN, but my stepmother's situation also sparked an interest in ICU and critically ill patients. Becoming a physician will allow me to broaden my expertise, serve and listen carefully to my patients facing both high-risk and vulnerable medical situations. I appreciate Sammy’s resilience, compassion, and commitment to helping others. This scholarship, created as a tribute to his life, reflects service beyond loss and allows his legacy to continue through those entering healthcare. Starting my journey as a nurse and eventually a physician will allow me to carry on that tribute by providing compassionate and meaningful healthcare to patients facing complex conditions.

My “Pie in the Sky” goal is to become a doctor because I have always envisioned standing in the gap to help others the way I would want to be helped. It is easy to dream, but the actual process of getting there is what scares me. The nonlinear path I am taking, first becoming a nurse, then a doctor, means I will be in school for nearly fifteen years of my life. School is not free, and I must figure out how to make ends meet while continuing to move toward the future I imagine for myself. One of my worst fears is failing after working so hard to create a better life, especially knowing that my parents left our country, Sierra Leone, so I could have better opportunities. The thought of not making them proud weighs heavily on me. However, once I researched what becoming an OB/GYN truly entails, working in women’s healthcare, earning trust, and helping bring new life into the world, those fears felt small in comparison to the purpose behind my dream. From a young age, I have always pictured myself becoming an obstetrician and understanding women’s health. I was drawn to labor and delivery, where trust and advocacy are essential during some of the most vulnerable moments in a woman’s life. During my first year of college, I received unexpected news that my stepmother had fallen into a coma. In that moment, I realized how unpredictable life can be, no matter how carefully you plan. This experience taught me that vulnerable patients are often aware of what is happening to them, yet cannot always express their fears, discomfort, or needs. It helped me understand how deeply patients rely on those entrusted with their care to notice, speak, and act for them. Whether it is a critically ill patient in a coma or an expecting mother during labor, advocacy becomes critical when individuals are unable to advocate for themselves. The aftermath of this experience led me to pursue nursing as the most meaningful step forward in healthcare. Due to the expense of medical school, nursing became a responsible decision that allows me to remain actively engaged in patient care while continuing toward my long-term goal of becoming a doctor. Nurses are often the primary point of contact for patients; they notice subtle changes, build trust, and ensure patients’ voices are not overlooked. After witnessing my stepmother’s condition, I became especially interested in critical care nursing. Working as an ICU nurse carries immense responsibility and learning, and it will allow me to gain experience caring for patients in their most vulnerable moments while building a strong foundation for the healthcare professional I aspire to become. Since leaving my university due to financial challenges following my stepmother’s coma, I continued my education at community college. However, my former institution is withholding my transcript due to an outstanding balance, preventing me from applying to nursing school. This scholarship would help remove that barrier and allow me to maintain the momentum I have worked so hard to build. Even though my path has changed, I refuse to be defined by an interruption. My commitment to healthcare remains constant, and the perseverance I show for myself now reflects the same dedication I hope to offer my future patients

Wicked is more than just a film for entertainment. It is a story that is enjoyable in so many ways that the two hours feel short, from its imagery to its humor and its sharp banter. Wicked shows lighthearted moments and leaves you asking deeper questions about identity, courage, and a sense of belonging. The film has inspirational music like Defying Gravity and Unlimited, which makes viewers feel personal rather than distant. Every time I watch the movies, which is frequently, I am reminded of the push and pull in a world that is in different directions, and choosing to believe in yourself and that your dreams still matter. In life, we are all met with different challenges, and I often respond to them with optimism and believe things will work for my good. This is why I resonate with Glinda in Wicked. Galinda recognizes her challenges, and she adapts because she wants to belong, with high hopes that her world will accept her. She believed changing her name from Galinda to Glinda would help her be accepted and embraced into society. Her mindset is similar to mine. I try to stay positive and trust the process for my life, hoping that effort is enough. This glimpse of hope is what keeps me going forward, even when outcomes are uncertain. However, the absence of an outcome doesn’t erase the struggle. It exists alongside optimism, but choosing hope allows me to continue despite the uncertainty. Elphaba shows a contrast with Glinda. Growing up isolated and feeling different from others, not just internally but physically, she stands in her truth even if it isolates her. As a child, I never felt like I belonged, and it became clear to me once I immigrated to America. I was often treated differently because of my accent and the stereotypical mindset about Africa. I worked hard to eliminate my accent and sound more “American”, changed how I dressed just to fit in, and tried to prove that their stereotypical mindset about Africa being poor was wrong. But no matter how hard I tried to show that I came from a good background in my country, Sierra Leone, people had already made up their minds. I was left feeling misunderstood and like I truly had no friends. As I grew up and separated their thoughts from mine, I realized I didn’t have to change myself or their minds, because they would not change. I stood in my truth regardless of the indifference. Even though Glinda and Elphaba are two different, complex characters, they both show the struggles of human life and exist in me, reminding me that both hope and struggle can coexist. The push and pull between the world of Wicked and my own has taught me something lasting: that dreams still matter, and this story stayed with me beyond the screen. The theme of Wicked is everyone deserves to fly, and for me, flying represents self-belief and the choice not shrink myself. Both characters have taught me an important lesson about optimism and resistance. I learned that I don’t have to choose only one version of myself, but to push forward regardless of the setbacks. This scholarship supports me in continuing to fly and believe in myself as I grow and move forward.

I first knew Sabrina Carpenter as Maya Hart on “Girl Meets World”. I was drawn to her character, who climbed through the window to see her best friend, never coming through the front door. It was different and intentional, demonstrating her courage and choice to find her own way in life. I was so intrigued that I quickly went on Google to look up Maya Hart and learned her real name is Sabrina Carpenter. I was surprised by how similar our names were, differing only by a single letter. As I watched the rest of the episode, I loved how big this small coincidence felt. Growing up, I saw her mostly as an actress. As Sabrina grew beyond her Disney years, I followed her silently, listening to her music and watching her music videos. I began seeing her not just as a Disney character on a screen, but as a woman growing into herself. Listening to her music, it felt honest and captured the reality of womanhood, relationships, and growing up. I couldn’t afford tickets to her concert, so I watched it silently on TikTok and celebrated her through her collaboration with Dunkin. As I saw Sabrina grow up publicly, I, Sabaina, was also quietly undergoing personal growth. In my quiet moments, I struggled financially with my education, leaving my university to attend community college while also facing cultural restrictions with my strict parents. But it all taught me responsibility and perseverance, helping me understand who I was. Watching her evolve despite the challenges she faced made me realize that my struggles don’t have to be perfect for it to mean something. While our lives are very different, watching her is rewarding because it shows me that growth doesn’t require an audience to matter. Looking back, it feels fitting that my connection to Sabrina started with her coming through a window. For years, I have been watching her behind a screen, quietly rooting for her while also rooting for my own life. Her growth in building herself over the years showed me that success doesn’t happen overnight; it takes time and patience. I may not be on stage, but as I follow my dreams in healthcare, I know that my growth doesn’t require an audience; it needs resilience.

4,380 miles away from the U.S. is the city of Freetown, Sierra Leone, where I spent my early childhood. I attended a private school, had consistent meals, and was cared for by my grandparents, with support from my father abroad. Though poverty surrounded us, I didn’t feel it directly. That changed when I moved to the United States. Living with my uncle in a one-bedroom apartment, my bedroom became what used to be a dining room. Holidays passed quietly, no Christmas tree, no gifts, no Thanksgiving dinners. I watched families celebrate from behind a TV screen, wishing for something I didn’t fully understand. I began noticing differences when shopping at discount stores, while my classmates wore brand-name clothes, and feeling ashamed of inviting people over. I realized that in America, comfort was no longer guaranteed. Eventually, I moved in with my aunt and uncle, whose life was modest at first but built through hard work. Over time, we moved into a townhouse, celebrated holidays together, and I saw what growth and opportunity could look like. Those experiences shaped me and showed me the power of perseverance and stability. School became my refuge, where I found purpose in science and human anatomy. I wasn’t always the top of the class, but I was curious, hardworking, and determined to understand how the human body works, especially the female body. In high school, I began researching maternal health and learned that women of color, especially Black women, face significantly higher risks during childbirth. This reality lit a fire in me. I discovered the field of obstetrics and gynecology and fell in love with its impact. The thought that someone could trust me to bring a new life into the world felt like a powerful privilege. I want to be a safe, knowledgeable, and comforting presence for women, especially those who look like me and often go unheard. My long-term goal is to become an OB/GYN, but I plan to first become a labor and delivery nurse to build experience and financial stability. Through this path, I will advocate for Black maternal health, educate my community, and provide care with compassion and excellence. I want to help close the gaps in healthcare that too many women face simply because of their skin color or background. STEM gave me direction when I felt lost. Now, I want to use it to create meaningful change one patient, one family, and one life at a time. This scholarship would ease the financial strain on my family and allow me to stay focused on the education that is preparing me for nursing school and beyond. Every dollar counts, and this support would bring me one step closer to becoming a healthcare provider who serves with knowledge, empathy, and purpose both in the U.S. and in Sierra Leone.

Growing up, I learned very early that life isn't always fair, but how I respond to it is something I can control. This mindset became my strength. From leaving Sierra Leone to navigating life in a one-bedroom apartment in America, I couldn’t control where I came from or how much money my family had. I learned to take responsibility for my education even when things were unfair, but to continue moving forward with what I had. Education became the one constant in my life, a place of structure, purpose, and hope. I couldn’t change the noise at home, or how many people shared a room, but I could decide to finish my homework, ask for help when I didn’t understand, and show up every single day. These weren’t always easy choices, but they were mine to make. I persevered despite financial stress and feeling different from my peers who had what I lacked, but I still pushed myself academically and kept moving forward. Today, I want to use that same power of focus to become a nurse, and one day, a doctor. But more than that, I want to be a guide and advocate for women who need someone to uplift, teach, and fight for them. But the way I continue to fight for myself despite my situation, I will do the same for patients. I can't control national statistics, but I can control how I show up for my patients. In the U.S., over 80% of pregnancy-related deaths are preventable. Yet each year, hundreds of women die from complications, and Black women are three times more likely to die during childbirth than white women. As a woman of color, this is deeply personal. I can’t control that reality yet. But I can commit myself to being part of the solution by listening to my patients, educating them, and making sure they feel heard and seen. I believe trust and education are the foundation of healing. I can’t always guarantee outcomes, but I can promise that I’ll listen, inform, and fight for them. That’s the power of focusing on what I can control: being a source of stability for others when everything else feels uncertain. I also want to give back globally. Being from Sierra Leone, I carry a responsibility to uplift my community back home. Whether it's funding a hospital or helping students pursue careers in healthcare, I plan to use what I’ve learned to empower others. I may not be able to change the entire healthcare system overnight, but I can control the difference I make one step at a time, by showing up, investing in others, and leading with compassion. I am fully committed to my education and willing to dedicate the next 12 years of my life to learning and helping others. The scholarship may seem small to some, but to me, it’s a step closer to becoming the kind of healthcare provider I needed growing up. It would ease the financial burden on my family, allow me to stay focused on my studies, and continue walking the path I’ve chosen with even more strength. There’s a saying that goes, “You can’t control the wind, but you can adjust your sails.” That’s what I’ve done my entire life, and that’s what I’ll keep doing as I work toward my dream of becoming a doctor who educates, advocates, and heals. With this scholarship, the progress that I've worked hard for could be sustained and strengthen me to keep moving forward.