I grew up in a South Asian immigrant household where mental health wasn’t something you talked about, at least not openly. We carried ourselves with pride, worked hard, and kept struggles behind closed doors. That silence shaped me. I learned early on that people can be hurting deeply while smiling on the outside, and that unspoken pain doesn’t just disappear, it builds. On top of that, I was navigating the complexity of my identity as someone who is both South Asian and queer. I often felt like I was straddling two worlds but never fully belonging in either. In South Asian spaces, I was “too queer”; in queer spaces, I was “too South Asian.” That in-between space was isolating at times, but it also gave me a unique lens for empathy. I understood what it felt like to be unseen, and I became determined to make sure others didn’t have to feel that way. As a teenager, I was the friend people came to when they needed someone to listen without judgment. Over time, that informal role became a calling. I became a certified peer specialist, supporting people facing mental health challenges, trauma, and life transitions. I saw firsthand how stigma, lack of resources, and cultural disconnects can keep people from getting the help they need. Those moments, watching someone’s shoulders drop when they realized they were truly understood, cemented my decision to pursue a PhD in Clinical Psychology. Now, my work focuses on trauma, resilience, and generational healing, especially within immigrant and marginalized communities. I want to create interventions that are not only evidence-based but also culturally responsive, approaches that speak to people’s lived realities rather than trying to fit them into one-size-fits-all models. I also volunteer with The Trevor Project, supporting LGBTQ+ youth in crisis, and lead trauma-informed care workshops for educators and community organizations. Whether it’s a late-night hotline call or a training room full of teachers, my goal is the same: to make people feel seen, understood, and valued. But my life isn’t all research papers and therapy rooms. I’m also an adult figure skater, a hobby I picked up later in life and now can’t imagine being without. The rink has become an unexpected space for community connection, sharing encouragement with fellow skaters after a rough practice, cheering on someone landing a new jump, or laughing together after an ungraceful fall. It’s a place where I’m reminded that joy and growth happen when you allow yourself to be vulnerable, even if that means wobbling through the process. My aspirations go beyond individual therapy. I want to influence policy so that mental healthcare systems become more inclusive, particularly for people who have historically been left out of the conversation. I see myself balancing clinical work with research and advocacy, designing culturally informed treatment models, training future practitioners, and helping shape legislation that improves access to care. Looking back, I realize that my path has been shaped as much by the people who believed in me as by the obstacles I’ve faced. My family’s sacrifices, the mentors who guided me, and the communities I’ve been part of have all left their mark. They’ve taught me that leadership is not about titles or recognition, it’s about using your skills, empathy, and determination to lift others up. My journey is about more than building a career; it’s about creating ripples of change that extend beyond me. If I can make mental healthcare more accessible for even one person who feels caught between worlds, then I know I am honoring the purpose I was meant to fulfill.

As a queer South Asian student pursuing degrees in neuroscience and psychology, I have come to understand that prioritizing mental and physical health is not just important, it's essential to survival and success. For LGBTQ+ students, maintaining wellness often means navigating identity, culture, and stigma while carrying the weight of academic and personal pressures. In my own life, prioritizing health has been both an act of survival and empowerment, one that continues to shape who I am and who I aspire to be. Growing up, mental health wasn’t something we talked about openly in my household. As a South Asian youth, I learned early to keep pain silent, and as a queer person, I felt the added weight of invisibility. I struggled for years with anxiety, body image issues, and eventually developed an eating disorder. My relationship with food and my body became a way to control what I felt I couldn’t name or express, my identity, my fear, my internalized shame. I didn’t realize how much I was hurting myself until I could no longer focus, sleep, or maintain the energy needed to function as a student or human being. Recovery was not linear, and it didn’t happen all at once. It began quietly, through a therapy referral, through online resources, through speaking with other LGBTQ+ individuals who had walked a similar path. It was in those early moments of support that I realized that healing is not just about survival, it’s about building a life worth living. I began setting boundaries, fueling my body with intention, and reconnecting with movement not as punishment but as celebration. One of the most healing activities for me was returning to figure skating, something I had loved as a child. Skating became a meditative act, one that reconnected me to joy, to discipline, and to my body in a new, compassionate way. Physical health has since become a vital part of how I care for myself. I prioritize nutrition, rest, movement, and community as part of my daily routine. These habits keep me grounded, especially in the midst of academic stress. While some days are still challenging, I’ve learned that resilience isn’t about perfection, it’s about recommitting to yourself, over and over again. This journey also deepened my passion for mental health. I am pursuing a PhD in clinical psychology to research the intersections of trauma, cultural identity, and mental illness, particularly in underserved communities. I want to contribute to the development of inclusive, trauma-informed care that addresses both the mental and physical health needs of LGBTQ+ and BIPOC populations. Through community-based clinics and culturally tailored interventions, I hope to help others heal holistically. I also aim to be a visible advocate for LGBTQ+ wellness, sharing my story so that others know they’re not alone. Many queer students struggle silently with disordered eating, anxiety, and isolation. By speaking openly about recovery and prioritizing health, I hope to model what healing can look like, and why it’s worth fighting for. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to continue prioritizing my health while pursuing academic and professional goals. More importantly, it would affirm the truth I’ve come to hold: that caring for your mind and body, especially in the face of adversity, is one of the most radical and life-affirming things you can do.

Mental health challenges affect countless people every year and can make it difficult to achieve their goals. As a first-generation, low-income student studying neuroscience and psychology, I have seen how mental health struggles impact students’ ability to succeed academically and personally. Mental health is often overlooked or stigmatized, yet it is foundational to well-being and success. This understanding has driven my passion for mental health advocacy and my career goal of becoming a clinical psychologist focused on supporting those facing mental health challenges. Growing up in a South Asian household, mental health was rarely discussed openly. Emotional struggles were often minimized or avoided. This silence made it difficult for me to recognize and seek help for my own anxiety and burnout during college. For a long time, I believed I had to manage my struggles alone. However, when I began therapy, it transformed my outlook. Therapy helped me understand that mental health conditions are not personal failings but natural responses to life’s stresses and traumas. It taught me the importance of self-care, resilience, and seeking support when needed. This experience inspired me to pursue a career dedicated to increasing mental health awareness and access to care, especially for communities where stigma and systemic barriers persist. I want to help normalize conversations about mental health and promote early intervention to prevent suffering and improve outcomes. I am particularly passionate about working with marginalized groups who often face unique challenges but lack culturally sensitive resources. Academically, I have focused on understanding the biological and psychological aspects of mental health. I assist in a Cognitive Neuroscience Lab, where I help conduct EEG experiments and analyze data related to attention and memory. This hands-on experience has deepened my appreciation for how brain function relates to mental health, and motivates me to integrate research and clinical care to develop effective treatments. As I enter my Clinical Psychology PhD program this fall, my long-term goal is to work to expand access to mental health services through community clinics and outreach programs. I aim to create spaces where individuals from diverse backgrounds feel safe to seek help without fear of judgment. Additionally, I hope to mentor other students from underrepresented communities who aspire to mental health careers, helping to build a more diverse and inclusive field. Receiving the Ethan To Memorial Scholarship would significantly ease the financial burdens I face as a first-generation student. It would allow me to dedicate more time and energy to my studies, research, and advocacy efforts. More importantly, it would enable me to continue championing mental health awareness among my peers and within my community. Mental health is essential to living a full and productive life. By supporting students who have faced mental health challenges themselves or who are committed to this cause, this scholarship helps create a future where mental wellness is prioritized and stigma is reduced. I am motivated to contribute to that future, empowering others to overcome their struggles and reach their full potential.

As a queer South Asian aspiring clinical psychologist, I am dedicated to advancing trauma-informed, culturally responsive mental health care and research. As a first-generation, low-income student pursuing a degree in neuroscience and psychology, I’ve experienced firsthand the ways in which mental health conditions, especially trauma-related disorders, are misunderstood, stigmatized, and under-treated in marginalized communities. My decision to pursue clinical psychology is shaped by both personal experience and a vision for a more inclusive, biologically informed future of mental health care, one that aligns closely with the legacy of Dr. Shuqiao Yao. Growing up in a South Asian household, I often encountered silence surrounding emotional suffering. Mental illness was treated with denial or euphemism; suicide, for example, was referred to as someone having “expired,” and therapy was rarely discussed, let alone pursued. This cultural stigma deeply influenced how I processed grief, burnout, and anxiety as a young adult. But through my academic work and personal healing, including seeking therapy myself, I came to see how mental health challenges are not failures, but physiological and psychological responses to prolonged stress, trauma, and environmental adversity. That realization sparked not only a commitment to my own recovery but also a passion for studying trauma through a neurobiological lens. I am interested in the role of stress-related disorders and how gene-environment interactions, including FKBP5 polymorphisms and HPA axis dysregulation, contribute to the development of PTSD and depression. Inspired by frameworks like the Intergenerational Trauma Treatment Model (ITTM), I hope to adapt and expand culturally attuned trauma interventions through research and clinical training. My goal is to investigate the biological underpinnings of trauma while developing accessible, evidence-based treatments that resonate with communities underrepresented in both research and care. Dr. Shuqiao Yao’s work on the neural mechanisms linking psychological stress and disease profoundly resonates with my aspirations. His legacy reflects the importance of combining empirical rigor with clinical compassion, something I strive to embody. As someone of Asian descent working toward a future in mental health care, I carry a deep awareness of the cultural dynamics that often prevent Asian communities from seeking or trusting psychological services. Representation in both clinical and research spaces is critical. Only about 10% of U.S. mental health professionals identify as Asian American, and even fewer conduct research that prioritizes our unique cultural and genetic contexts. I hope to change that. My plan is to earn a PhD in clinical psychology with a research focus on trauma, stress physiology, and cultural factors influencing mental health outcomes. Long-term, I aim to lead a community clinic and trauma research lab that integrates neuroscience with culturally grounded treatment models. I want to mentor future BIPOC and LGBTQIA+ scholars and practitioners, contribute to open-access research, and help reimagine what mental health support looks like in communities where it’s long been stigmatized or inaccessible. I assisted in a Cognitive Neuroscience Lab studying attention and memory. My responsibilities include setting up and conducting EEG experiments, processing EEG data using GUI tools and Python, and collaborating with peers to analyze large data sets. This experience has strengthened my technical and critical thinking skills and deepened my interest in bridging clinical psychology with neuroscience. Receiving the Dr. Shuqiao Yao Memorial Scholarship would support both my education and my commitment to furthering his legacy. I am driven by the same mission: to illuminate the links between stress and mental illness and to expand the reach of culturally informed, neuroscience-based treatment. With this support, I hope to be part of the next generation of psychologists who bring innovation, inclusion, and compassion to mental health care.

My name is Veerali Rana, and I am a queer South Asian individual, pursuing a career in clinical psychology. As someone who grew up navigating intergenerational trauma, cultural stigma, and systemic barriers around mental health, I know firsthand what it means to feel unseen in the spaces meant to help you heal. My lived experiences, as a BIPOC, first-generation, low-income student, have not only shaped my personal journey, but also ignited my purpose: to become a mental health professional who expands access, builds trust, and creates culturally responsive care for communities that have historically been excluded or underserved. In my South Asian community, mental health is often shrouded in silence. Terms like expired are used to avoid naming suicide, and emotional pain is typically spiritualized, ignored, or dismissed. When I began struggling with anxiety, burnout, and grief in college, I didn’t know how to reach out, therapy felt taboo, and vulnerability felt like failure. But eventually, I sought help. Starting therapy changed my life. It allowed me to set boundaries, process complex emotions, and begin healing in ways that honored both my identity and my experiences. That decision, to care for my mental health despite cultural and financial barriers, was one of the most courageous and transformative steps I’ve ever taken. Now, I want to make that healing possible for others. I’ve completed my undergraduate degree in neuroscience and psychology, and am pursuing a PhD in clinical psychology. My research interests center around trauma, particularly how it is passed down across generations, and how it interacts with both biological mechanisms (like the FKBP5 gene) and sociocultural stressors such as racism, gender roles, and immigrant family dynamics. But my passion extends beyond research. I want to bridge the gap between theory and practice by creating interventions that are trauma-informed, culturally sensitive, and community-based. My goal is to open a mental health clinic that serves BIPOC and immigrant families with affordable, inclusive care. I want to train other clinicians to approach mental health with cultural humility, and to conduct community workshops that reduce stigma and promote emotional literacy, especially in communities where therapy is still viewed with suspicion or shame. I also hope to mentor LGBTQIA+ and BIPOC students in the field, helping them navigate systems that weren’t designed with them in mind. My advocacy work is already rooted in this mission. I’ve co-facilitated peer mental health spaces, led social media projects to destigmatize therapy in South Asian communities, and supported trauma-informed initiatives that center marginalized voices. Whether through research, outreach, or everyday conversations, I am committed to shifting the mental health narrative from silence to empowerment. To me, this work is personal. It’s about giving people, especially those who look like me, love like me, or come from families like mine, the tools, space, and support they need to heal. I believe everyone deserves access to mental health care that respects their identity, honors their history, and helps them feel seen. The Arnetha V. Bishop Memorial Scholarship would support not just my education, but my mission. With your support, I will continue the legacy of advocates like Ms. Bishop, those who worked to ensure mental health services are not a privilege, but a right, and carry that dedication into every space I enter.

Mental health is important to me as a student because it has directly shaped my ability to succeed, show up fully, and pursue an education aligned with purpose rather than survival. As a queer South Asian person from a low-income household, I’ve experienced both internal and external pressures that made emotional vulnerability feel unsafe. Mental health challenges weren’t something we named or addressed in my community, they were often met with silence, shame, or spiritualization. I grew up hearing the word expired to describe those lost to suicide, yet the pain behind those deaths was rarely discussed. This silence didn’t just surround me, it lived in me. For years, I carried anxiety, grief, and burnout without knowing how to ask for help. During college, those challenges reached a tipping point. I was balancing coursework in neuroscience and psychology with leadership responsibilities and financial stress, all while navigating the unspoken expectations placed on me as a first-generation student. It was therapy that helped me begin to heal. Making the decision to start therapy was difficult, not only because of the stigma I faced culturally, but because I had internalized the idea that I needed to handle everything alone. Therapy helped me understand that boundaries are not selfish, rest is not laziness, and that my mental health matters just as much as my academic performance. That shift changed everything. When I began prioritizing my mental health, I was able to engage more deeply in my education, build authentic relationships, and reclaim a sense of self beyond achievement. That personal experience is what fuels my advocacy work today. I advocate for mental health in my community by making the invisible visible—naming the struggles that so many students carry quietly and helping others feel less alone. I’ve mentored first-generation and BIPOC students who, like me, often feel pressure to succeed without showing strain. I co-facilitated peer support spaces where students could speak openly about burnout, anxiety, and identity, and I’ve helped normalize conversations around therapy and emotional wellness within South Asian circles, especially online, where community and stigma collide most often. One of my core beliefs is that advocacy doesn’t always have to be loud to be effective. Sometimes, it looks like checking in on someone who says they’re “just tired” but seems off. Sometimes it’s sharing resources, leading campus initiatives, or challenging professors to include mental health days in syllabi. And other times, it’s simply being a presence, someone who listens without judgment, and who speaks up when silence feels safer. As I prepare for a career in clinical psychology, my commitment to mental health is both personal and professional. I hope to contribute to research and clinical practices that center cultural identity, intergenerational trauma, and accessibility, especially for marginalized students who feel unseen in traditional systems. But right now, as a student, my impact lives in community: in the conversations I hold, the care I extend, and the stigma I work to dismantle daily. Mental health is not a side issue, it’s foundational. For students, it shapes everything from academic performance to relationships to our belief in what’s possible. I advocate because I know what it’s like to suffer in silence, and I want to be part of building a future where no one has to.

My passion for mental health is both personal and deeply rooted in lived experience. As a queer South Asian from a low-income background, I grew up witnessing the consequences of emotional suffering that went unspoken and untreated. Mental illness was rarely named in my community, terms like expired were used in place of death by suicide, and therapy was considered a last resort, if not a sign of failure. From a young age, I saw how culture, stigma, and lack of representation compounded harm, leaving many to suffer in silence. These early experiences sparked a question that has shaped my life: How do we create systems of care that truly see and serve everyone? This question led me to pursue undergraduate studies in neuroscience, counseling, and applied psychology. It also led me to begin therapy myself, an act that felt culturally defiant but proved transformational. Therapy gave me the language and tools to process intergenerational stress, challenge internalized shame, and begin healing. It taught me that mental wellness doesn’t have to come at the expense of cultural belonging. That realization has become the foundation of my career goal: to become a clinical psychologist and researcher committed to expanding access, equity, and cultural responsiveness in mental health care. Specifically, I aim to study the intersection of trauma, biology, and cultural identity. I’m interested in biomarkers like the FKBP5 gene and gene-environment interactions that affect how trauma is passed down and experienced. But my interest is not only scientific, it is personal and urgent. I want to help create trauma-informed interventions that are both biologically informed and culturally grounded, especially for immigrant and BIPOC communities that have long been excluded or misrepresented in research. Models like the Intergenerational Trauma Treatment Model (ITTM) offer a foundation I hope to adapt and expand to reflect the lived realities of diverse families. In every step of my journey, I’ve remained committed to advancing diversity, equity, and inclusion. I’ve mentored other first-generation and underrepresented students, co-facilitated support spaces for South Asian youth navigating mental health, and contributed to digital campaigns that normalize therapy in communities of color. These efforts are especially important given the glaring lack of Asian American representation in the mental health field, only about 10% of U.S. mental health professionals identify as Asian American. That absence has real consequences. When clients can’t see themselves in their providers, when their cultural values are misunderstood or ignored, it becomes harder to seek help, harder to heal, and harder to feel seen. My long-term vision includes opening a culturally responsive clinic, mentoring BIPOC clinicians-in-training, and conducting community-based research that translates into practical, inclusive care. I want to help change the statistics by becoming the representation I once needed, and by making the field more welcoming to those who come after me. As someone who has faced financial hardship and underrepresentation, I know how difficult it can be to envision yourself in this field. This scholarship represents more than financial support; it’s an investment in the next generation of changemakers who are transforming mental health care from the inside out. I’m committed to building a future where brain health, mental health, and cultural awareness coexist, and where care is accessible, affirming, and inclusive for all. With your support, I can continue turning that vision into reality.

One of the most pivotal times I prioritized my mental health was when I began therapy and started setting emotional boundaries within my South Asian community; a space where mental health challenges are often dismissed or met with silence. I grew up hearing the word expired as a euphemism for death, a term often used to sidestep conversations around suicide or self-harm. Many of the losses I witnessed early on were from those very causes, yet they were rarely spoken of directly. Mental health, especially struggles like depression, anxiety, or trauma, remained taboo. Seeking therapy, let alone working in the behavioral health field, was often seen as unnecessary or even shameful. For years, I internalized these cultural messages. I was expected to carry the weight of others emotions, avoid “making a scene,” and prioritize collective harmony over personal discomfort. But as I moved through my undergraduate studies in neuroscience and psychology, and as I began to reflect on my own experiences more deeply, I realized I was carrying unspoken grief, intergenerational stress, and a growing sense of disconnection from myself. I knew I couldn’t continue pouring into others without learning how to care for myself first. Beginning therapy was not easy, it felt like a quiet rebellion against years of cultural conditioning. But it was one of the most meaningful decisions I’ve made. Through that process, I learned to name what I was feeling without shame, to set boundaries without guilt, and to hold space for my own needs alongside my care for others. I also began to understand that healing does not require rejecting culture, but rather requires reimagining it in ways that allow for emotional honesty and mental wellbeing. Setting boundaries within my community, especially with family, was challenging, but it taught me invaluable skills: communication rooted in empathy, discernment between guilt and responsibility, and the strength to honor my emotional limits. These lessons didn’t just support my personal wellbeing, they reshaped the way I approach relationships, education, and future clinical work. I now plan for my future with sustainability and authenticity in mind, knowing that I’m at my best when I honor my own mental and emotional capacity. This experience has also deepened my commitment to culturally responsive mental healthcare. My personal history, and the silence that surrounded it, has motivated me to bridge the gaps that prevent South Asian individuals and families from seeking help. As I pursue doctoral studies in clinical psychology, I am especially interested in the intersection of culture, trauma, and biological stress regulation. I hope to build on frameworks like the Intergenerational Trauma Treatment Model (ITTM) and develop culturally sensitive interventions that reflect the realities of those whose pain has been historically dismissed or misunderstood. Prioritizing my mental health has not only changed my personal life, it has clarified my purpose. It’s the reason I’m entering this field and the compass that continues to guide my path forward.