I chose to pursue advanced studies in nursing within the STEAM field because I believe that being there for the patient every step of the way and ensuring their comfort is just as, if not more, important than medical treatment. I also plan to work abroad in countries that need medical attention due to a deeply personal journey that underscored the significance of patient-centered care. Witnessing my great uncle's arduous battle with cancer was a profound experience that shook me to my core. He didn't just fight the disease; he fought against a system that made him feel unwelcome and unsafe, forcing him to risk everything to seek treatment outside the confines of a concentration camp. He didn't have his family with him, he was in an unknown area and he didn't feel welcomed. Working with people means putting their comfort above all else and having a welcoming demeanor. His struggles highlighted the harsh reality that comfort and compassion are as vital as medical intervention, especially in environments where patients feel marginalized and overlooked. My battles with undiagnosed migraines further solidified my commitment to nursing. Despite enduring excruciating pain and debilitating symptoms, I was met with skepticism and dismissal from healthcare professionals. The journey to a diagnosis was fraught with obstacles; it took a visit to my homeland to receive validation from a doctor, only for that diagnosis to be disregarded upon my return to America. This meant my family had to put aside a great deal of money for me to go to a neurologist and get tests done every other week for my entire fourth-grade career. Despite the neurologists saying I have stress-induced and chronic migraines my doctors refused to prescribe me anything because I was young and this is just something I will have to deal with. This only made me feel invalidated and that these headaches and nausea that left me so weak I had to be in bed for days was normal and I was too weak to handle it. It wasn't until my junior year of high school when my gym teacher told me that it wasn't normal and that I did need to seek professional help for it that I realized that I was being medically gaslighted. I was constantly invalidated and dismissed when I would come to them with my ails and that only made me feel as though it was in my head. These experiences ignited a fire within me, fueling my passion for nursing and underscoring the profound impact of compassionate healthcare. I am drawn to the role of a nurse not only to administer treatment but also to advocate fiercely for my patients and provide unwavering support through their darkest moments. My heart resonates deeply with the idea of serving pediatric patients, ensuring that every child receives the care, validation, and support they deserve. Receiving this scholarship would mean more to me than words can express. It would not only alleviate the financial burden of pursuing advanced studies but also serve as a validation of my journey and my unwavering commitment to making a difference in the lives of others. With this scholarship, I am determined to honor the struggles of my great uncle and my own experiences by becoming the compassionate and impactful healthcare provider that I know I can be, dedicated to bringing comfort, healing, and hope to those in need.

Growing up in a diverse community where people shared my appearance and beliefs, I felt shielded from the harsh realities of the world. However, in first grade, an exam qualified me for a gifted program that my current school didn't offer. This led me to transfer to a school on the other side of the city for second grade. At first, I underestimated the impact of this move. My upbringing had taught me to embrace our differences, but I quickly learned that not everyone shared this mindset. Upon joining the new school, I faced ridicule for my Muslim identity, especially after it became known that I was Palestinian. For the next four years, I found myself in constant conflict with said classmate who vehemently denied the legitimacy of my heritage and nationality, often resorting to hurtful stereotypes and accusations. Despite my efforts to maintain composure and engage in constructive dialogue, a particularly painful moment arose when he labeled all Muslims as terrorists. While I managed to stay calm in all our arguments this one hurt the most as my religion is the way I live my life and it teaches kindness and forgiveness- not terrorism. In response, I said, "How would you feel if I said all Jews were terrorists?" This single sentence triggered a series of consequences that tarnished my reputation, I was once again in the principal's office and the other two students used that time to fill in the class on their version of the story. Although my true friends understood my intentions and beliefs, I faced isolation and ostracization from my other classmates who succumbed to those rumors. During this period of isolation, I grappled with feelings of anger and injustice. Why was I the only one facing consequences when my classmate had spent years tormenting me with baseless accusations? With maturity and unfortunately more experience with these instances, I've come to realize that I could have chosen my words more carefully. While I was unfairly provoked and attacked, responding with grace and education rather than retaliation would have been more productive. While I was unfairly provoked and attacked, I now realize the importance of responding with grace and education rather than retaliation. Instead of challenging him in a confrontational manner, I could have utilized that moment to enlighten him about the true teachings of Islam and foster understanding. My advice to anyone facing similar challenges is to remain composed and view it as an opportunity for education. Hatred is often ingrained from a young age and requires exposure to different perspectives to unlearn. While it may be tempting to retaliate in the face of injustice, responding with patience and empathy can yield more fruitful outcomes. However, it's important to recognize that educating someone is not always possible or your responsibility. If attempts at dialogue prove fruitless, focus on avoiding conflict and seek support from trusted individuals to navigate adversity with resilience and integrity.

From my earliest memories, my father instilled in me the profound identity of being Muslim above all else, emphasizing that my faith transcends any other aspect of my existence, even my Palestinian heritage. My mother, hailing from Arraba, Jenin, fervently encouraged my siblings and me to embrace our roots, particularly in light of the injustices suffered by the men in her family, who were unjustly imprisoned by the IDF for daring to voice their opposition against the ethnic cleansing of our homeland. While my father's belief in the unity of Muslims regardless of race held merit, he failed to fully grasp the significance of being a Palestinian Muslim. Recalling my recent visit to al-Quds, I vividly recall the challenges I faced, but more importantly, the unwavering unity I witnessed among my fellow travelers. Navigating through a dilapidated fence and traversing an arduous, rugged path at the early hour of 4 a.m., exhaustion and determination filled the air. Yet, amidst the fatigue, a remarkable sense of camaraderie prevailed. People selflessly took turns leading the way, ensuring everyone's safety through each obstacle. This collective spirit embodied the essence of Islamic brotherhood. In the face of rejection at the gates, they would find alternate entrances and ensure everyone gained access. When encountering someone lacking water or sustenance for the journey, they willingly shared their own provisions. It is my belief that this epitomizes the Palestinian Muslim identity—a steadfastness and kindness toward our brothers and sisters, particularly when the world seems to conspire against them. It symbolized an unbreakable bond, a pledge of unity, and an unwavering commitment to one another. In Islam, along with kindness, the pursuit of knowledge holds immense significance. It teaches us to utilize the gifts bestowed upon us by Allah and to engage in critical thinking. Motivated by personal experiences of ageism, sexism, and racism within the medical field, witnessing the struggles of my uncle, who battled cancer while imprisoned in Gaza, and the loss of my grandfather due to doctors neglecting his present afflictions, I have resolved to dedicate myself to the noble path of nursing. My ambition is to serve as a pediatric nurse, imparting empathy and understanding to children who often find their voices silenced when expressing pain deemed as exaggerated. By addressing the ageist and sociocultural constraints that contribute to health disparities, I aim to embody the principles of equality and equity advocated by Islam, ensuring that each individual receives the care they deserve. Presently, I actively engage in volunteering efforts within both medical and Islamic communities. At a rehabilitation and nursing home center, I not only gain invaluable experience but also contribute to the well-being of the broader community. Additionally, as a member of my school's Muslim Student Association (MSA), I actively participate in organizing events such as Ramadan iftars, and I intend to remain dedicated to this cause. During Ramadan, I volunteered to care for children during the first eight Rakat of Taraweeh, allowing parents to focus on their prayers. Furthermore, I volunteered as a teacher's assistant during summer school at the local masjid. Sunday school played a pivotal role in my upbringing, nurturing my understanding of Islam. As Islam emphasizes the importance of seeking knowledge, it also underscores the significance of imparting knowledge. Thus, I am grateful for the opportunity to give back to the community that has played an integral role in shaping my identity.

From my earliest memories, my father instilled in me the profound identity of being Muslim above all else, emphasizing that my faith transcends any other aspect of my existence, even my Palestinian heritage. My mother, hailing from Arraba, Jenin, fervently encouraged my siblings and me to embrace our roots, particularly in light of the injustices suffered by the men in her family, who were unjustly imprisoned by the IDF for daring to voice their opposition against the ethnic cleansing of our homeland. While my father's belief in the unity of Muslims regardless of race held merit, he failed to fully grasp the significance of being a Palestinian Muslim. Recalling my recent visit to al-Quds, I vividly recall the challenges I faced, but more importantly, the unwavering unity I witnessed among my fellow travelers. Navigating through a dilapidated fence and traversing an arduous, rugged path at the early hour of 4 a.m., exhaustion and determination filled the air. Yet, amidst the fatigue, a remarkable sense of camaraderie prevailed. People selflessly took turns leading the way, ensuring everyone's safety through each obstacle. This collective spirit embodied the essence of Islamic brotherhood. In the face of rejection at the gates, they would find alternate entrances and ensure everyone gained access. When encountering someone lacking water or sustenance for the journey, they willingly shared their own provisions. It is my belief that this epitomizes the Palestinian Muslim identity—a steadfastness and kindness toward our brothers and sisters, particularly when the world seems to conspire against them. It symbolized an unbreakable bond, a pledge of unity, and an unwavering commitment to one another. In Islam, along with kindness, the pursuit of knowledge holds immense significance. It teaches us to utilize the gifts bestowed upon us by Allah and to engage in critical thinking. Motivated by personal experiences of ageism, sexism, and racism within the medical field, witnessing the struggles of my uncle, who battled cancer while imprisoned in Gaza, and the loss of my grandfather due to doctors neglecting his present afflictions, I have resolved to dedicate myself to the noble path of nursing. My ambition is to serve as a pediatric nurse, imparting empathy and understanding to children who often find their voices silenced when expressing pain deemed as exaggerated. By addressing the ageist and sociocultural constraints that contribute to health disparities, I aim to embody the principles of equality and equity advocated by Islam, ensuring that each individual receives the care they deserve. Presently, I actively engage in volunteering efforts within both medical and Islamic communities. At a rehabilitation and nursing home center, I not only gain invaluable experience but also contribute to the well-being of the broader community. Additionally, as a member of my school's Muslim Student Association (MSA), I actively participate in organizing events such as Ramadan iftars, and I intend to remain dedicated to this cause. During Ramadan, I volunteered to care for children during the first eight Rakat of Taraweeh, allowing parents to focus on their prayers. Furthermore, I volunteered as a teacher's assistant during summer school at the local masjid. Sunday school played a pivotal role in my upbringing, nurturing my understanding of Islam. As Islam emphasizes the importance of seeking knowledge, it also underscores the significance of imparting knowledge. Thus, I am grateful for the opportunity to give back to the community that has played an integral role in shaping my identity.

Growing up, my father always told me I’m Muslim before I’m anything else; I’m Muslim before I’m Palestinian. My mother, who was born and raised in Arraba, Jenin, urged my siblings and me to be proud of our heritage, especially since the IDF imprisoned most of the men in her family for speaking up against the ethnic cleansing of their country. My dad didn’t believe in separating Muslims by race, and while he was right, he failed to consider what being Palestinian, particularly a Palestinian Muslim, means. I remember the difficulties I faced when I visited al Quds last summer, but also the unity I experienced. Our group had to crawl through a broken fence and walk along a long, rocky road. Even though it was four in the morning and everyone was tired and focused on getting by, they looked out for each other. People took turns being in the front because at every obstacle, some people would stay behind to get everyone through safely. Being Muslim means helping and caring for others, wanting for them the things you want for yourself. Through tough times, the group embodied the Islamic brotherhood. When turned away at the gates, they’d help each other find another gate and ensure they entered. When they saw someone who didn’t have enough water or food to keep them energized during the journey, they would share their own. I’d like to think that this was the definition of Palestinian Muslims, staying strong and showing kindness to our brothers and sisters, especially when the world seems against them. It was a pact of unity, reassurance that we were always there for each other. Along with kindness, seeking knowledge is vital in Islam, as it teaches us to use what Allah has given us and think thoroughly. Hence why I intend to continue my education and pursue a nursing career. Having my ageist, sexist and racist experiences with doctors, seeing my uncle who got cancer while imprisoned in Gaza struggle to find proper treatment, and losing my grandfather because the doctors focused on a past issue rather than what was harming him, I have made it my goal to work and better the medical field. I aspire to work as a pediatric nurse and show children the empathy and understanding that they deserve as many times as they are silenced because their complaints of pain are deemed as dramatic. I want to minimize the ageism and sociocultural constraints that contribute to the disparities in health outcomes, as Islam teaches equality and equity, making sure everyone is given what they need. Currently, I am volunteering in medical areas and Islamic areas. I volunteer at a rehab and nursing home center where I not only gain experience but also get to give back to the general community. I am also on the board of my school’s MSA (Muslim Student Association), where I helped organize events like an iftar during Ramadan and intend to continue to actively partake in MSA. I also volunteered during Ramadan to babysit during the first eight Rakat of Taraweeh so that parents could focus on prayer. With that same masjid, I volunteered as a teacher’s assistant during summer school. Sunday school was a huge part of my childhood that taught me so much about Islam. Just as seeking knowledge is important in Islam, so is giving knowledge, and I was so grateful for the opportunity to give back to the community that raised me.

During the 2021-2022 school year I was a freshmen mentor, meaning that one of my classes consisted of me, and my co-mentor, guiding the freshmen through their first year of high school. While this class did have a teacher, for obvious safety and legal reasons, she was mainly hands-off as this was our, the upperclassmen, opportunity to connect and help the new students of the school. I spent nights putting together presentations, specifically focusing on what I wish I knew as a freshman now that I was starting my college applications and building my résumé for college. While I did want to guide them through their academic life I also wanted to provide a safe space for them. I will never forget the look on one student’s face as I was going through the college presentation and how I saw his worry melt away when he saw the slide that offered alternatives to college which I added even though the mentor advisor told us to focus on college. I made sure to emphasize that college isn’t the only way to be successful in life, that going to trade school or training for fame doesn’t put anyone behind in life. Afterwards the kid came up to me and thanked me for including that. He shared that he told his parents that he didn’t want to attend college and they put him down for it. It broke my heart, knowing the burden of disappointing your parents had on mental health all too well. I told him that life isn’t about pleasing your parents and they’re still going to be proud of him no matter what. He told me how he already started working towards his dream career and seeing him so excited and passionate made me excited and proud.

I woke up to the sound of my mother’s sobs, I jolted up and sprinted to her room. The news came with little shock, my grandfather had been in the hospital for a week now and hasn’t woken up since the accident but seeing my mother grieving broke me. I tried my best to make her feel better, I stayed close to her, let her cry on me, and comforted her to the best of my abilities. “He was in a lot of pain, whether he was awake or not, and now he is relieved from it. Be patient and grateful” I told her as I brushed my fingers through her hair. This of course made more sense in the light of our religion, Islam, which views death as something more beautiful than the western world portrays. As soon as her friends came to give their condolences I went downstairs to cook as she hasn’t eaten all day and clean a bit to not only ensure she’ll be less stressed if she came downstairs, she’s a bit of a clean freak, but also calm myself down. It dawned on me after I left her, I had just lost my grandfather. A tight knot started in my throat and dropped to my stomach. I said a silent duaa, or prayer, for my grandfather and I tried to look at it in a different light. My grandpa had been sick and this accident only worsened his health, there was no way he could have lived a peaceful life and knowing how independent and free spirited he was, he wouldn’t have enjoyed life as much. I learned that in grieving there is gratitude and in darkness there is light. I sincerely miss him but it eases me that he is no longer suffering.