I grew up mainly in America, but I will always feel more at home in Jamaica. The vibrancy, the sense of community, and indomitable spirit of Jamaica is something that I can not find anywhere else. I was born in Jamaica in 2006. My mother and I migrated to the United States of America in 2009 while I was at the age of 3 years old. My mother brought me here for more opportunities for herself and myself. My mother is an educator, and she has been teaching for well over 20 years. My mother persisted through many obstacles because she wanted me to be the best and give the best that she could. My mother sacrificed what she wanted most times and what she needed to provide for me as she raised me alone. So she made sure to remind me that her sacrifices, her tears, would not be worth it if I did not remember that no matter what happened my mother told me the world is mine to take, but you have to want it more than anything else. As I was growing up, my mom instilled me in the value of understanding who you are and where you came from. I previously said how Jamaica’s spirit is indomitable, we have been in many of history’s moments leading people to freedom. Whether we look at Nanny Queen of the Maroons, Kujo, Dutty Bookman, Paul Bogle, and Marcus Garvey, we see a culture of Jamaicans who thrived on being unapologetic in their values,beliefs, and their person. I am who I am because the blood of the indomitable Jamaican revolutionaries and the strong-willed Jamaicans of today, runs through me day in and day out. It helps me understand that the path that I choose will be one that helps me change the world instead of simply watching it stay the same. I want to be able to help people and shed light on the many health crises and mental health crises across the world, but it starts with Jamaicans. It starts where I feel home because I plan to help people who feel they are either too proud to ask for help or need help but cannot afford it. I hope to establish a non-profit medical practice in Jamaica. This practice would focus on supporting those in poverty who cannot afford medical resources, including the homeless with disabilities and individuals struggling with mental health issues. Each year, when I return to Jamaica, I am saddened by the sight of people with mental illnesses and inadequate healthcare. I believe that if you have the ability and opportunity to positively impact others, you should act on it and give back to your community. Given the limited resources available in Jamaica, becoming a doctor will allow me to give back to my home country and address these critical needs. Through my journey, I have learned the importance of resilience, empathy, and determination. I am passionate about medicine not only because of my personal experiences but also because of the impact I hope to make in the future. By providing compassionate care and addressing healthcare disparities, I aim to create a world where everyone has access to the medical resources they need and the respect they deserve.

When I was younger, I was unaware of my grandmother's illness. It wasn’t until I grew older that I began to understand the conversations about her health. My only concern was how I could help her. One day in health class, we discussed breast cancer, and some classmates mentioned that their grandparents and aunts had it too. I asked my teacher, “How do we save them?” She replied, “You have to be a doctor for that.” Determined to help my grandmother, I decided to become a doctor. I was told that achieving this goal would require hard work. Growing up, we lacked the financial resources to pursue everything we wanted, but I was committed to making this dream a reality. I seized every opportunity to learn and grow, quickly realizing that I couldn’t save my grandmother as I had hoped. This realization ignited my passion for medicine—the desire to make a difference in someone's life. When I shared my career aspirations with my grandmother, she advised, “If you are going to do this, be good, because many don’t treat people with care and respect.” I am determined to pass the standards set by doctors my grandmother encountered. I aim to be exceptional, creating a medical environment where patients feel respected and cared for. In a field that is constantly evolving, it is easy to overlook the personal aspect of care, making patients feel insignificant or alone. I want to offer my patients not only medical expertise but also empathy and a compassionate presence. My journey began when my mother and I migrated from Jamaica to America when I was 3 years old. She instilled in me values from Jamaica because she wanted me to understand where I came from and how to move forward in life. As a young child, I found myself in a new world, surrounded by peers with different backgrounds. Desperate to fit in, I wondered if my mother and I were "normal." To cope with this, I started telling lies. As these lies grew more elaborate, my teachers brought the truth to my mother's attention. "Why?" my mother asked. "I wanted to know what it felt like to be normal," I confessed. I never felt normal. I always stood out, no matter where I was or who I was with. People seemed to sense that I was different, even though I didn't have obvious traits like a stutter or a physical disability. I was an only child, my father wasn’t around, and my mother had strict rules that set me apart from my peers. I was shy and felt the need to fit in, so I could be accepted and liked. I was teased and bullied by kids because the eczema on my face or my tendency to cry. My mother kept repeating that we were different: "You are not like the American children you see at school." This made me question: what made me so different? Over time, I realized it was the high expectations my family placed on me. I had to be the best to make the most of the opportunities in this country. I had to remember where I came from so I knew how to act at pivotal points in my life. This realization brought on my anxiety. I dreaded going home after school, where I would hear, “You are not like the other kids.” I wondered why I couldn’t be. I did my work well—why couldn’t I just be normal? This led to panic attacks. I felt like I couldn't breathe, and I felt so alone. My mother thought I was being dramatic, but in reality, I couldn't keep up with the everyday demands and constant pressure. My panic attacks became constant. Some days were worse than others, but what really took a toll on me was that no one could see I was struggling. I had to help myself and it was scary navigating the dark days by myself and coping with constant self-destabilizing thoughts. There were nights I would lay awake, thinking about everything I had to do to please everyone and stay up doing assignments until the sun rose. I worked myself to the bone to prove I could do it, all while the gut-wrenching sensation in my stomach every day, convinced I was never going to be enough. I made it through the rough times because I have resilience. Although my mother added to my feelings of inadequacy, I pushed through and reached a point where I know what I want to do with my life and how strong I am. Strength to overcome comes in different ways, but it first starts with remembering that you are not a sad story. You have to take it step by step to grow, and even if you fall back down, you have to keep going. Bad days are just 24 hours, and the next 24 hours are yours to shape. Eventually, I hope to establish a non-profit medical practice in Jamaica, my home country. This practice would focus on supporting those in poverty who cannot afford medical resources, including the homeless with disabilities and individuals struggling with mental health issues. Each year, when I return to Jamaica, I am saddened by the sight of people with mental illnesses and inadequate healthcare. I believe that if you have the ability and opportunity to positively impact others, you should act on it and give back to your community. Given the limited resources available in Jamaica, becoming a doctor will allow me to give back to my home country and address these critical needs. Through my journey, I have learned the importance of resilience, empathy, and determination. I am passionate about medicine not only because of my personal experiences but also because of the impact I hope to make in the future. By providing compassionate care and addressing healthcare disparities, I aim to create a world where everyone has access to the medical resources they need and the respect they deserve.

When I was younger, I was unaware of my grandmother's illness. It wasn’t until I grew older that I began to understand the conversations about her health. My only concern was how I could help her. One day in health class, we discussed breast cancer, and some classmates mentioned that their grandparents and aunts had it too. I asked my teacher, “How do we save them?” She replied, “You have to be a doctor for that.” Determined to help my grandmother, I decided to become a doctor. I was advised by many that achieving this goal would require hard work. Growing up, we lacked the financial resources to pursue everything we wanted, but I was committed to making this dream a reality. I seized every opportunity to learn and grow, quickly I realized that I couldn’t save my grandmother as I had hoped. This realization ignited my passion for medicine—the desire to make a difference in someone's life and in the lives of their families. When I shared my career aspirations with my grandmother, she advised, “If you are going to do this, be good, because many don’t treat people with care and respect.” I am determined to surpass the standards set by the doctors my grandmother encountered. I aim to be exceptional, creating a medical environment where patients feel respected and cared for. In a field that is constantly evolving, it is easy to overlook the personal aspect of care, making patients feel insignificant or alone. I want to offer my patients not only medical expertise but also empathy and a compassionate presence. Eventually, I hope to gather enough resources to establish a non-profit medical practice in Jamaica, my home country. This practice would focus on supporting those in poverty who cannot afford medical resources, including the homeless with disabilities and individuals struggling with mental health issues. Each year, when I return to Jamaica, I am deeply saddened by the sight of people with mental illnesses and inadequate healthcare. I believe that if you have the ability and opportunity to positively impact others, you should act on it. Given the limited resources available in Jamaica, becoming a doctor will allow me to give back to my home country and address these critical needs. That is why I am a Health Sciences on the Pre-Medical Track.

My mother and I migrated from Jamaica to America when I was 3 years old. She instilled in me values from Jamaica because she wanted me to understand where I came from and how to move forward in life. As a young child, I found myself in a new world, surrounded by peers with different backgrounds. Desperate to fit in, I wondered if my mother and I were "normal." To cope with this, I started telling lies. As these lies grew more elaborate, my teachers brought the truth to my mother's attention. "Why?" my mother asked. "I wanted to know what it felt like to be normal," I confessed. I never felt normal. I always stood out, no matter where I was or who I was with. People seemed to sense that I was different, even though I didn't have obvious traits like a stutter or a physical disability. I was an only child, my father wasn’t around, and my mother had strict rules that set me apart from my peers. I was shy and felt the need to fit in, to be like the other kids, so I could be accepted and liked. I was teased and bullied by kids because of things like the eczema on my face or my tendency to cry. My mother kept repeating that we were different: "You are not like the American children you see at school." This made me question: what made me so different? Over time, I realized it was the high expectations my family placed on me. I had to be the best to make the most of the opportunities in this country. I had to remember where I came from so I knew how to act at pivotal points in my life. This realization brought on my anxiety. I dreaded going home after school, where I would hear, “You are not like the other kids.” I wondered why I couldn’t be. I did my work well—why couldn’t I just be normal? This led to panic attacks. I felt like I couldn't breathe, and I felt so alone. My mother thought I was being dramatic, and throwing tantrums. But in reality, I couldn't keep up with the everyday demands and constant pressure. My panic attacks became constant. Some days were worse than others, but what really took a toll on me was that no one could see I was struggling. I had to help myself and figure out ways to deal with my anxiety. It was scary navigating the dark days by myself and coping with constant self-destabilizing thoughts. There were nights I would lay awake, thinking about everything I had to do to please everyone and stay up doing assignments until the sun rose. I worked myself to the bone to prove I could do it, all while the gut-wrenching sensation in my stomach every day, convinced I was never going to be enough. I made it through the rough times because I have a resilience unlike anyone else. Although my mother constantly added to my feelings of inadequacy, I pushed through and reached a point where I know what I want to do with my life and how strong I am. To anyone else, strength to overcome comes in different ways, but it first starts with remembering that you are not a sad story. You have to take it step by step to grow, and even if you fall back down, you have to keep going. Bad days are just 24 hours, and the next 24 hours are yours to shape. So, what are you going to do?

My mother and I migrated from Jamaica to America when I was 3 years old. She instilled in me values from Jamaica because she wanted me to understand where I came from and how to move forward in life. As a young child, I found myself in a new world, surrounded by peers with different backgrounds. Desperate to fit in, I wondered if my mother and I were "normal." To cope with this, I started telling lies. As these lies grew more elaborate, my teachers eventually brought the truth to my mother's attention. "Why?" my mother asked. "I wanted to know what it felt like to be normal," I confessed. I never felt normal. I always stood out, no matter where I was or who I was with. People seemed to sense that I was different, even though I didn't have obvious traits like a stutter or a physical disability. I was an only child, my father wasn’t around, and my mother had strict rules that set me apart from my peers. I was shy and felt the need to fit in, to be like the other kids, so I could be accepted and liked. I was teased and bullied by kids because of things like the eczema on my face or my tendency to cry. My mother kept repeating that we were different: "You are not like the American children you see at school." This made me question: what made me so different? Over time, I realized it was the high expectations my family placed on me. I had to be the best to make the most of the opportunities in this country. I had to remember where I came from so I knew how to act at pivotal points in my life. This realization brought on my anxiety. I dreaded going home after school, where I would hear, “You are not like the other kids.” I wondered why I couldn’t be. I did my work well—why couldn’t I just be normal? This led to panic attacks. I felt like I couldn't breathe, and I felt so alone. My mother thought I was being dramatic, and throwing tantrums. But in reality, I couldn't keep up with the everyday demands and constant pressure. My panic attacks became constant. Some days were worse than others, but what really took a toll on me was that no one could see I was struggling. I had to help myself and figure out ways to deal with my anxiety. It was scary navigating the dark days by myself and coping with constant self-destabilizing thoughts. There were nights I would lay awake, thinking about everything I had to do to please everyone and stay up doing assignments until the sun rose. I worked myself to the bone to prove I could do it, all while the gut-wrenching sensation in my stomach every day, convinced I was never going to be enough. I made it through the rough times because I have a resilience unlike anyone else. Although my mother constantly added to my feelings of inadequacy, I pushed through and reached a point where I know what I want to do with my life and how strong I am. I am not like the American kids, but I am me: a Jamaican young woman who struggled to get where she is now. I know how to work for what I want despite obstacles from myself and others. This is why I want to go to an HBCU: to be around others who understand the struggles of striving for perfection as a young black woman.

My name is Sarai Sommerville. I am the only child of a single immigrant mother with an absent father. As I did not have a father figure in my life, I had many people who came into that role, the most important being my grandfather. My grandfather, Carlton Hugh Hooper, was a hardworking man who adored his family.    My grandmother met my grandfather when she already had two children. My grandfather took them in as his own and loved them the same. My grandfather lived in Portmore, Jamaica, but he visited the United States quite often to see us. One of his last visits was in December, when I was 9–10 years old, and we were all in the kitchen at night after our weekly Sunday dinner. It was my stepfather, a male family friend, grandfather, mother, and I. We were all talking about my father and how his absence affected me. I remember feeling discouraged that I did not have a father like most kids in school. My grandfather sees the sadness in my face, and he grabs the two males next to him and says, “Do not worry about it, my granddaughter. We are all here for you to shower you with the love you deserve.” This is my favorite memory of him. Within that moment, he provided me with something I will cherish forever. Those words made me feel less alone; rather, they made me feel seen because I could have that many people regardless of who was and who wasn’t in my life actively.  My grandfather was a good man. He put his all into his family, no matter the cost. So, when he suddenly died four years ago in a car accident, it was a shift for all of us. He had been in rough accidents before, so it was not an unfamiliar situation to us. Unfortunately, this was not one of his miraculous moments where he pulled through. He died after being airlifted to another hospital in Jamaica with more resources on Wednesday, September 18, 2019. My mother brought me to Jamaica as an emotional support to help her plan the funeral. And I will say that trip was one of the most transformational experiences of my life. I saw so much of my family, and I saw so much of the pain that they have been experiencing since his death. In Jamaica, we have an event after death called “9 nights," which is the ninth night after the loved one has died, and that is when their soul goes to heaven. At my grandfather’s celebration of life, I had never seen so many people come celebrate one person’s life with such vigor. It made me think of the impact that he had on his community, friends, and family. It made me think of how special of a person he had to be to so many, not just his family. As I was around my extended family more and more, I heard stories about my grandfather and listened to family secrets. It made me feel like I was a part of something bigger than myself.    His death led me to Jamaica to see that you only have so much time in your life. He brought me on my first big trip to Jamaica, where I got to see how much you can be loved and supported. He was supposed to be with me to show me everything, but even though he wasn't, he was still there in spirit. He showed me Jamaica’s motto, “Out of many, one people," using the number of people who showed up for him. It reminded me that no matter how alone I felt, I could never truly be forgiven or left behind if I could see the amount of love I was born into, the respect I earned and was given, and the support I have behind me. His passing helped me realize and focus on my journey, no matter how sad it felt. It was a sad story. Rather, I had to forge a path unique to me. His death allowed me to see that the feeling that no one wanted me and no one saw me was a fabrication because my grandfather saw me. He loved me and wanted me to succeed. I continue to fight for myself because I know that I am wanted by so many people, and most importantly, through him, I am wanted by myself. I want to achieve greatness because I know that it will show those who disappointed me and left me behind that I can always succeed and thrive. Love is an abundance in my life, a gift given to me by my grandfather.

Movies have an incredible ability to transcend the boundaries of the screen and weave themselves into the fabric of our lives, leaving a noticeable mark on our hearts and minds. For me, one cinematic masterpiece that has had a profound impact on me is "The Perks of Being a Wallflower." This movie was released in 2012 and directed by Stephen Chbosky. This film does not only feel like a coming-of-age story. It is an exploration of the human experience, mental health, and the impact of genuine connections. At the core of the film is the character of Charlie, a high school freshman grappling with the complexities of adolescence and struggling with his mental health. From the moment he first appeared on the screen, I found myself drawn to Charlie, not just because of his character on screen but also as a reflection of my inner struggles. Charlie’s introspective nature, coupled with the challenges he faces, resonated with me on a deeply personal level. His character wove into my narrative, and I could relate to Charlie's journey of self-discovery and his yearning for authentic connections. As someone who has navigated the difficult waters of mental health, I felt an immediate relationship with Charlie's internal battles. The film handled his struggles with a delicate touch, depicting the subtle but huge effects of mental health in a way that felt raw and authentic. Charlie's quest for meaningful connections mirrored my longing for understanding and acceptance. The portrayal of friendships in the movie, particularly the bond between Charlie, Sam, and Patrick, struck a chord with me. These characters became more than just figments of fiction; they became companions that I desired to have on my journey. Their laughter, tears, and shared vulnerabilities became a source of solace and inspiration, urging me to seek out connections that went beyond surface-level interactions. During this movie, the friendship bond between Charlie, Sam, and Patrick and the levels of their friendship truly made the story more enduring. Charlie’s love for Sam could never truly be reciprocated. Sam and Patrick’s deep conversations about relationships and helping Patrick grapple with his emotions. The movie's exploration of the power of friendship and the role that it has in shaping our identities left a lasting impression on me. It emphasized the importance of being seen and heard and of finding a place where one could belong authentically. This is something that I have been searching for in my own life, and seeing someone find something like that in theirs is a comforting feeling. Charlie's letters, the narrative device in the film, served as a touching reminder of the therapeutic nature of self-expression. It prompted me to reflect on the writing that I do for peace of mind. It encourages me to look at my journey and inspires me to continue my cathartic release that comes from articulating one's thoughts and emotions. All in all, "The Perks of Being a Wallflower" stands as a testament to the power of storytelling. Through its compelling characters and narrative, the film passes the status of just entertainment. It becomes a mirror reflecting the details of the teenage human experience and all of its trials and tribulations. This movie has been a companion in my moments of solitude. It has helped guide me through the labyrinth of self-discovery and is a tribute to the enduring power of genuine connections. As I navigate the tapestry of my own life, I carry with me the lessons learned from Charlie's journey, forever grateful for the unforgettable impact of this cinematic masterpiece.

My inspiration for continuing my education is my mom. My mother has known my potential longer than I ever have. She knows what I can do, and she has pushed me to do it. She has been an example to me my whole life. She has been personifying excellence for me for so long. She has led by example, pushing herself through many obstacles to get to where she wants to be today. My mother is the strongest woman I know because she has sacrificed. She has defied the odds. She has kept going when it got tough. She has inspired me to keep going because nothing can stand in the way of what you truly want for yourself. My mother is where I got my determination from. She is where I got my work ethic and where I got my strength. On September 16, 2019, my grandfather was in a car crash. I never saw my mom this hurt in my life. Although he has been in multiple accidents before, this one felt different to her. Unfortunately, we got the news that he died 2 days later. My mother was in the middle of her PhD program for Educational Leadership and although she did not stop her course. She persisted. We flew to Jamaica and spent about a month there and she had assignments and papers due every week. She completed everyone despite her grief, her spotty Wi-Fi reception, and being tired from the stress of planning a funeral. She persisted and she got it done. She is a role model for me. She set the stage for how I wanted to move forward with my own life. My mother has always drilled into me that education is the way out of a world where they belittle you on every little thing you say or do. My mother showed me that true strength is not easy and often it is hard to maintain. True strength comes from an internal fire to push and keep going when you often do not want to. Many times in my life, I have doubted my abilities or have fallen short in many areas. My fear of failure and my anxiety would always have me paralyzed when I questioned what should I do next. But then I remembered that my mom has persisted through difficult times. It always reminds me to pick myself dust myself off and try again. She taught me that determination and the willingness to work hard get you everywhere. She has made me believe in my dreams such as going to college and becoming an oncologist. I want to go to one of the most prestigious colleges or universities for medicine and graduate with honors. I want to be one of the first medical doctors in my family. I want to change the world for the better. My mom helped me believe that I could achieve this dream for myself. When I get down or feel like I am failing, I always remember that she sacrificed a lot for her and me to be here. So although, I might be stressed. I will always find a way to make her and me proud of me.

Most people think of selflessness as giving their every possession to those in need. I wouldn’t disagree with this definition either, but there is another element to selflessness. You can give away all your belongings to the homeless, give thousands of dollars of your money to charities, or even volunteer for shelters. The question you have to ask yourself is: What is your intention? People can do selfless things all the time; it is all about why. Intention is our reasoning behind why we do something. In a world where people profit off of the work of others and even profit off of others' suffering, it makes you question whether these selfless acts are selfless. Selflessness, to me, is doing something good because you know it can help someone else. Since I was a kid, I have always loved to help others. I always thought if I could do something for someone else, it was a good thing. I could help others get on the same playing field as everyone else. I always hated seeing someone left behind in school because I understood how lonely that feeling could get. So I decided to help anyone who needed it. I wanted to help others because I knew I could. I have participated in my church mission trips, whether it was helping an elderly neighbor fix their yard, going on the Appalachian Service Project trip, cleaning one of the streets in my community, or making meals for the Men’s Shelter. It never felt like work. It felt right to give to those who were not on the same playing field as the rest of us. When going on the Appalachian Service Project, where they do volunteer home repair and replacement in Central Appalachia. We met the owner of the home that we were working on, and he told us that he was so thankful for the work that we were doing. He said he felt so blessed that people like us were willing to help people like him. When I volunteered to fix this man's home, I never thought about what I would gain. I only thought about how happy and safe he and his wife would be when we completed our job. I just wanted to help this man because I could. I embody selflessness by always being ready to be a servant because I was raised in the Christian faith. I will always be ready to be a servant of the Lord. In Luke 10:35-37, it reads, “35 And the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, 'Take care of him, and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I come back.' 36 Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?" 37 He said, "The one who showed him mercy." And Jesus said to him, "You go, and do likewise." I recall this story often, and it reminds me that we shall have mercy on others because we would want them to have mercy on us. So I embody selflessness by having compassion for others. God has shown compassion for every one of us. He will continue to show us compassion and mercy because we are his children.

My mother, Kaiee Keisha Karen Hooper, grew up in Jamaica, a third-world country about 145 km south of Cuba and 161 km southwest of Haiti. She didn’t leave Jamaica for good until she was 31 years old. She moved to Maryland to be a Spanish teacher in a specialized program for teachers from Jamaica to teach in the Washington D.C. metro area. She did all of this when she had a 3-year-old daughter named Sarai Kimora May Sommerville. My mother is the hardest worker I have ever seen. She came from a country where children knew to respect others, especially adult figures and people treated her as an equal, not as a competitor. She had to adjust herself to navigate this new world that she came here to live in for the opportunities that she never had for me. She wanted more for me so she pushed through her struggles, her fears, her sadness, and the chances she encountered in a foreign country. My mother valued the opportunity she had to be in America. She valued the commitment she made to me and she valued the sacrifices she made to me for my life to be better. My mother made the move to America with minimal help. She raised me with minimal help as well. She instilled in me the importance of resilience. She told me that you cannot do anything without hard work, but she displayed the act of pushing forward no matter what. No matter how much it hurts and no matter how much she wanted to scream. As a young kid, I have seen the struggles that my mother has gone through. I have heard her cry at times when she did not know where she was going to go. I have seen her perplexed and face her adversities by herself. I have seen her put her pride to the side to get the things that she needed and wanted for herself. My mother has instilled in me that you can work hard, but if you don’t have the mindset that you can do it despite everything you will never get anywhere. You have to aspire to be great. You have to want it because nothing in life comes easy. No matter how hard you pray nothing just comes into your life. You have to earn it. My mother said something to me, “Sarai, you have more potential and intelligence than I ever did at your age. But you just sit with it. Imagine if you work at it daily. If you study and push yourself to do better each day, imagine what you could be.” I took her words to heart. I took them and I worked for what I wanted for my life. I wanted to be great and I will be great. It starts with my ability to push myself. My single mother instilled in me the value of resilience, which meant to me to aspire to be great no matter what is happening around me because nothing is given to us.

In an ideal world, I could list many different careers and paths I would go on. But right now when I think of my dream version of my future self I see myself happy. I see myself fulfilled in using my abilities or my voice to help others. I see myself as a successful doctor ready to help those in need in any way that I can. I see myself ready and prepared to help many women who are diagnosed with Breast Cancer. I see myself as someone who would change the world.