Imagine growing up feeling different in your own skin, finally going to a doctor hoping for answers, only to hear one of two things: A. “You are free to go home. Everything is normal,” or B. “We cannot diagnose it.” These are two of the many nerve-wracking feelings some Black Americans face when provided dermatologic care. Nearly 47% of dermatologists and dermatology residents report that their medical school training was inadequate for treating skin conditions in Black patients (Alexis et al., 2011), exposing one of the medical field’s racial disparities. As a kid, I remember moving around with family members, which led me to different schools and made me feel not only different but isolated. Nonetheless, that all changed once I met friends who felt similar. They were from different ethnicities, were nonverbal, had missing phalanges, eczema, and more. One day, I walked into class and noticed a new boy sitting by himself. Although I never saw him as different, many of our peers did, and they often picked on him for what made him unique. I remember seeing some of our peers staring and whispering to each other, which clearly frustrated him. Although the room was quiet, the tension grew loud. I held my binder tight, kept my chin up, and sat right next to him. As I approached my desk, I could see he may have had severe eczema because there were dry skin cells on the desk whenever he would rub himself or his hair, but I did not mind because I was once toldn never to judge a book by its cover. Although he didn't speak to me that day, we became best friends within a week. That memory marks the beginning of my passion for dermatology. That friendship helped me understand that a skin condition can affect far more than physical health. It can affect a person’s confidence, relationships, and sense of belonging. I realized my motivation wasn't about money, making people “pretty,” or helping them conform to societal expectations. It was about helping patients feel confident, secure, and comfortable in their own skin. As I continue my studies in college, I will be putting that passion into action. My objective is not only to become a dermatologist, but also to create opportunities for students interested in dermatology through internships, mentorship, and educational programs. I want to teach aspiring medical professionals about skin problems that affect people from many backgrounds so they may confidently identify and treat patients accurately. In the future, I hope to start my own dermatology clinic where patients feel seen, understood, and confident they will not be disregarded because of their skin color or limited medical knowledge. I also hope to participate in medical missions where I can learn from local healthcare professionals about skin disorders that may be unfamiliar in American healthcare while supporting communities with limited access to dermatology. I understand that pursuing dermatology is competitive, but I am not intimidated by the challenge. Beyond becoming a dermatologist, my goal is to be a Black woman in the field who improves patient care and representation for people of color. With a scholarship, I could continue my education, focus on my studies, and gain valuable experiences that will help prepare me for medical school and my future career. With each stage of my studies, I am getting closer to becoming the doctor I need to be.

I’m motivated to pursue advanced education because of my passion for medicine and my upbringing. I didn’t always have a stable home or people supporting me, and moving around a lot was just part of my life. Money was tight, and I had to figure things out early on. There were many times when I felt out of place or different from everyone else, and that wasn't always easy. But looking back, those experiences really formed me. They taught me how to be strong, how to understand people better, and how to show up for others, especially the ones who feel overlooked or like they don’t belong. As a child, I naturally connected with people who were often overlooked, friends with visible differences like extra fingers or skin conditions. Being around them showed me how deeply confidence and self-image can affect a person’s life. It made me want to be someone who helps others feel comfortable in their own skin, both physically and emotionally. That is where my passion for healthcare, specifically dermatology, began. My biggest inspiration is my grandmother, who was a physician. Even though I did not grow up close to her, I had the opportunity to care for her during my summer breaks in college when she developed dementia. That time meant everything to me. Even as her memory faded, her nature never changed. She would constantly remind me that I was beautiful and that I would do great things in this world. Those words stayed with me. A year later, when she passed, I carried that encouragement with me and turned my mourning into motivation. Shortly after, I became a Certified Nursing Assistant. Working as a CNA has allowed me to care for patients hands-on, showing me the significance of patience, dignity, and compassion in healthcare. It confirmed that this is not just something I am interested in; it is what I am meant to do. I aspire to become a dermatology nurse practitioner or dermatologist so I can help people feel confident, seen, and comfortable in their own skin, regardless of age or condition. This scholarship would have a significant impact on my journey. As someone without strong financial support, pursuing higher education comes with a lot of pressure. I am balancing school, work, and personal responsibilities while keeping focused on my goals. This support would ease that burden and allow me to focus more on my education and clinical growth, rather than constantly worrying about finances. It would also bring me one stride closer to building a stable future, not just for me but for my family as well. More than anything, this scholarship is an investment in my purpose. I am determined to use my education to give back, help others, and provide care that makes people feel appreciated and confident. My experiences have influenced me, but they will not limit me; they will drive me to make a difference.

My road toward a career in medicine hasn’t been easy, but it has been meaningful, and I’m still growing through it. As a student at an HBCU, I’ve learned that this path isn’t only about grades or achievements. It’s about pushing through the parts people don’t always talk about, grief, setbacks, financial struggles, and learning how to keep going anyway. Growing up, college wasn’t something my family talked about much. I can count on one hand the number of people who actually graduated. Still, healthcare was always around me: family members who were nurses and medical assistants, and my grandmother, who was a doctor. Even as a child, I knew I wanted to do something hands-on and meaningful. I didn’t fully understand it at the time, but I knew I wanted to make an impact. My childhood wasn’t stable. I moved between households, constantly adjusting to new environments and schools. That came with being judged for what I didn’t have, my clothes, my living situation, and things beyond my control. Because of that, I found myself connecting with people who were also going through something. Over time, I started observing things more deeply, friends with skin conditions, physical differences, and insecurities that made them feel like they didn’t belong. That curiosity stayed with me. In middle school, I started getting into skincare and helping people feel more confident. It began simply, giving advice, doing mini facials, but it meant something to me. By high school, I began researching dermatology, HBCUs, and the steps to becoming a doctor. That’s when everything made sense. I decided that no matter what I had been through, I wasn’t going to let it limit where I was going. Getting accepted into college as a first-generation student meant everything to me. Now that I'm attending Alabama A&M University, I’ve found a space where I truly feel noticed and supported. Being at an HBCU has molded me in ways that I didn’t expect; it’s given me confidence, community, and a stronger understanding of the significance of representation. I’ve joined organizations, given back through service, and pushed myself to grow even when things felt intense. And truthfully, it hasn’t been easy. I’ve dealt with loss, mental health struggles, distance from family, and financial hardships including moments where I didn’t know how I was going to pay rent or stay in school. There were times I had to choose between basic needs and my education. Receiving the Junie Project Scholarship would take a huge weight off my shoulders. It would allow me to focus more on my education and less on how I’ll make ends meet. More than that, it would be a devotion to my future as a physician. I want to become a cosmetic dermatologist who serves communities that are often overlooked. Many people of color experience gaps in care, especially in dermatology, in which conditions on darker skin are often misdiagnosed or ignored. I want to be part of changing that. I want my patients to feel noticed, understood, and cared for. My experience is still unfolding, but everything I’ve been through has made me into someone who refuses to quit. This scholarship would support me in continuing forward, not solely for myself, but for my family and my community.