Like many other international students I have had my educational dreams suspended without reason – and learned plenty about racism and resilience
Next May, I should be walking across a stage at Harvard – my two-year-old daughter in my arms, my name called out, my doctoral hood placed over shoulders that have carried far more than academic ambition.
It was going to be more than a graduation. It was to be a culmination, a reclamation. My daughter’s presence would symbolise not only my personal triumph but the very journey that led me here: discovering my own uterine fibroid when I decided to become a mother inspired my doctorate.
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