In 2014, I was an undergraduate pursuing a Public Health degree with an emphasis in Epidemiology. In that course, I learned about the tragedies that POC experience when needing and receiving care throughout their pregnancies. I learned that black women are at a significantly increased risk of maternal morbidity and mortality and that most of the risks are due to poor advocacy for the patient. As a black woman who was of childbearing age, I became terrified that I may find myself in similar situations whenever the time occurred for me to start my family. This class significantly contributed to my decision to become a nurse so that I may advocate for my patients when no one else will listen to their concerns. In 2016, my sister was pregnant with my niece, who is now healthy and thriving. My sister developed preeclampsia, and this was treated as though it was not a major concern. Her ankles were swollen with retained fluid, her blood pressure was sky-high, and she complained of frequent headaches that made it hard to see. During her birthing experience, she hemorrhaged. Fortunately, she had a team of healthcare providers who were there with her and kept a close eye on her, so they were able to act swiftly. However, I will never forget watching her bleeding and becoming more scared of the situation. After this experience, my desire to work in maternal care only increased. At the time, I did not know the severity of the situation, but I remembered that postpartum hemorrhage was one of the most common causes of maternal mortality in the United States, especially among black women. In 2023, I was already enrolled in a nursing program and was in a Maternity class. It was only there that I learned of the severity of my sister's situation, and I was moved to tears during the Preeclampsia lecture because I was learning that I could have lost my sister that day. I also learned of ways it is treated and managed and was very upset that the risks of preeclampsia were not explained to my sister. I was upset that she was not monitored more closely, and I was angry with her primary obstetrician for not handling the situation more diligently. Before this class, a part of me was split between working as a public health nurse to provide care to underserved areas and working in maternity to be a better advocate for pregnant people; however, my decision to work in maternity was 100% solidified so that no patient or their family members would be as left in the dark as we were during my sister's situation.

In 2015, I decided to pursue a Bachelor's degree in public health. During my Junior year of college, I took a health disparities course and learned about maternal and infant mortality rates in black women. I learned that black women are four times as likely to die from complications related to childbirth than any other race in the United States. I also learned that most of those deaths were preventable and stemmed from the mother not having enough advocacy on her behalf to ensure a healthy delivery and recovery. Because of this, I decided to pursue a Bachelor's degree in nursing after graduating with my public health degree. I decided that I wanted to be the voice for black women and be a part of the solution to this epidemic of preventable deaths. While learning about maternal and infant mortality rates, I learned that, in 2011, Serena Williams had a postpartum complication that was ignored by her health care team. I was astonished that an Olympian who knows her body better than anyone else and struggled with a history of blood clots was ignored when she said that something was wrong. The lack of concern that her health care team displayed could have been fatal, as it was later discovered that she had a pulmonary embolism. As a black woman, learning about Serena Williams' postpartum complication made me reconsider having children because if a world-class athlete was ignored, what would that mean for me? After learning of her complication, I remember thinking that I wanted to be a part of a solution for the maternal mortality rates in black women. I remember thinking that if she had someone who advocated for her when she said something was wrong, her embolism could have been discovered sooner, and the risk of mortality could have drastically decreased. While Serena Williams survived the ordeal, I started to think of the women who did not and decided that I could not stand around and read about preventable complications and deaths within my community. Currently, I am in an accelerated nursing program that makes it incredibly difficult to balance work and studies. This scholarship would help me pursue this career by alleviating some of the financial stresses that I am presented with. I will be starting my maternal and pediatrics classes in a couple of quarters and would love to be able to spend 100% of my time genuinely studying and understanding the information that I will be presented with so that I am able to take my education into Labor and Delivery. Being an advocate for expectant mothers, especially black mothers, is my passion. I would use this scholarship to drastically increase my opportunities for success to make my mark on this epidemic.

In 2015, I decided to pursue a Bachelor's degree in public health. During my Junior year of college, I took a health disparities course and learned about maternal and infant mortality rates in black women. I learned that black women are four times as likely to die from complications related to childbirth than any other race in the United States. I also learned that most of those deaths were preventable and stemmed from the mother not having enough advocacy on her behalf to ensure a healthy delivery and recovery. Because of this, I decided to pursue a Bachelor's degree in nursing after graduating with my public health degree. I decided that I wanted to be the voice for black women and be a part of the solution to this epidemic of preventable deaths. While learning about maternal and infant mortality rates, I learned that, in 2011, Serena Williams had a postpartum complication that was ignored by her health care team. I was astonished that an Olympian who knows her body better than anyone else and struggled with a history of blood clots was ignored when she said that something was wrong. The lack of concern that her health care team displayed could have been fatal, as it was later discovered that she had a pulmonary embolism. As a black woman, learning about Serena Williams' postpartum complication made me reconsider having children because if a world-class athlete was ignored, what would that mean for me? After learning of her complication, I remember thinking that I wanted to be a part of a solution for the maternal mortality rates in black women. I remember thinking that if she had someone who advocated for her when she said something was wrong, her embolism could have been discovered sooner, and the risk of mortality could have drastically decreased. While Serena Williams survived the ordeal, I started to think of the women who did not and decided that I could not stand around and read about preventable complications and deaths within my community. Currently, I am in an accelerated nursing program that makes it incredibly difficult to balance work and studies. This scholarship would help me pursue this career by alleviating some of the financial stresses that I am presented with. I will be starting my maternal and pediatrics classes in a couple of quarters and would love to be able to spend 100% of my time genuinely studying and understanding the information that I will be presented with so that I am able to take my education into Labor and Delivery. Being an advocate for expectant mothers, especially black mothers, is my passion. I would use this scholarship to drastically increase my opportunities for success to make my mark on this epidemic.

Educational inequity is something that we should all stand for because it is very important that all job fields have adequate representation of all communities. Standing up to educational inequity will allow anyone to become anything that their hearts desire regardless of race, sexuality, socioeconomic status, disabilities, etc. There should be no reason why a person who earns the grades necessary to become a doctor is unable to follow through with their plan simply because they cannot afford their tuition. Educational inequity is leading to a future where, only those who are financially stable or who best fit our western society's idea of perfect candidates, are gaining the education necessary to work in fields that require some form of higher education. The problem with this future is that it leads to an elite group of people who are able to work in high value fields and it leads to those who do not fit the "perfect candidate" picture having to work jobs that are available to them that require very few skills. In turn, we see a future with very little diversity in job fields and we see a future where a caste system exists. Ending educational inequity will allow for various backgrounds to exist in all job fields and it will also assist in closing the gap of income inequality. It is vital that we end educational inequity so that we ensure that anyone can become what their heart desires regardless of their social status.

My goals for my medical career include becoming a nurse to help ensure that minority voices are heard. I also have the goal of bridging the gap between health disparities in these communities. I want to serve as a way for minorities, especially black women, to have their voices heard and their concerns taken seriously. As a Black woman, I have had many experiences with my access to health care. The experience that is most notable to me was battling with receiving care and treatment for autoimmune disorders that went ignored for 4 and a half years. Countless doctors told me that I was not actually sick and that the pain was imagined. At 19, I was finally tested for Lupus and it was discovered that my complaints of pain and fatigue were symptoms of the onset of this autoimmune disorder. Complaints of pain and symptoms presented by black people are disproportionately ignored and/or misdiagnosed by providers who have implicit or explicit biases. This experience has solidified my decision to go into the health care field so that I may provide the care and resources that countless Black people have not had access to because they were ignored. The experience also made me want to become an advocate for Black children so that they can grow up and know how to put their foot down and refuse to be turned away until their voices are heard. I hope to bridge the gap in health disparities for Black people and this experience has changed my entire career trajectory and life so that I can be one less provider that they feel ignored by. Our concerns and worries should not be silenced or ignored and I will fight to ensure that our concerns, especially with maternal and infant mortality rates, are taken seriously. I want to encourage more Black people to diversify the health field so that Black people feel like they can relate to their providers and that they will be heard and listened to. While white providers are not guaranteed to have a form of bias towards minorities, I believe that diversifying this field will help black communities by treating genuine concerns and providing relief for actual ailments that may be ignored. As of today, there is no explanation for the health disparities that exist in the black community. When income, age, and comorbidities (or lack thereof) are taken into account, we still trail in our level of health. This, to most, is indicative that there must be a problem within our actual health care and, if black people are being ignored, we need to become more abundant in this field to correct the issue.

My utopian vision for optimal mental health for the Black community includes having more Black psychologists and therapists as well as outlets that allow for members in the Black community to feel like they are being heard and have a way to focus on positives. The first part of my vision is crucial because there are less than 2% of mental health providers who are Black. This can lead to members of the Black community feeling as though no one understands their social dilemmas that may exist in just the Black community. An example of this is the ability for Black men to voice their feelings without feeling ostracized by family or a partner. While this man may be able to find a White mental health provider, he may feel as though he can relate to a Black mental health provider because they would be able to understand on a cultural level what it means for a Black man to voice how they feel. These providers need to be more accessible to these communities by proximity as well as more representation to allow for a sense of belonging for these communities. The second part of my vision is more for teenagers/young adults to congregate and socialize with each other so that they feel as though they are able to be a part of a constructive and positive group. These groups can allow for our Black youth to gain life long friends, stay out of trouble, be constructive, and feel as though they have a place that they can make life long goals. Growing up in a poor part of town, I was surrounded by others who were in my situation who turned to a life of mischief and crime, as that was what was all there was to do. I genuinely believe that going to a school that had after school programs for their students helped me to stay busy, constructive, and out of trouble. I feel as though having various school programs for Black students will allow them to stay out of trouble and will also allow for them to have a strong support system to rely on when their mental health is not in a good spot. These parts of my utopian vision for optimal mental health in Black communities would work together to produce far more hard working, financially stable, and social savvy members of our community. These parts will, in turn, lead to strong neighborhoods, schools. and generational wealth that will take them out of poverty and give them the resources to manage their situations and reduce run ins with people who wish to see Black communities fall under any means necessary.

As a Black woman, I have had many experiences that have shaped who I am today. The experience that is most notable to me was battling with receiving care and treatment for autoimmune disorders that went ignored for 4 and a half years. Countless doctors told me that I was not actually sick and that the pain was imagined. At 19, I was finally tested for Lupus and it was discovered that my complaints of pain and fatigue were symptoms of the onset of this autoimmune disorder. Complaints of pain and symptoms presented by black women are disproportionately ignored and/or misdiagnosed by providers who have implicit or explicit biases. This experience has solidified my decision to go into the health care field so that I may provide the care and resources that countless Black women have not had access to because they were ignored. The experience also made me want to become an advocate for Black girls so that they can grow up and know how to put their foot down and refuse to be turned away until they get their necessary experience. Lastly, this experience has opened my eyes to other biases that were not clear to me when I was younger and I fight everyday to teach others how to see these biases as well as how to teach those who are bias about seeing why their way not be tolerated. I hope to bridge the gap in health disparities for Black women and this experience has changed my entire career trajectory and life so that I can be one less provider that our Black women feel ignored by. Our concerns and worries should not be silenced or ignored and I will fight to ensure that our concerns, especially with maternal and fetal mortality rates, are taken seriously.