Some lessons are learned within the classroom.

Others are learned in the dark of the night, standing beside my brother’s bed and holding his hand as we count down the seconds until the paramedics arrive, so we can report the number of seconds his seizure lasted. Growing up as the youngest of four boys, my brother had been facing the challenges of living with Gray Matter Heterotopia since the age of twelve. It was a condition that turned ordinary nights into emergencies and ordinary days into routines of medication logs, trigger tracking and constant readiness. Long before I understood what a pharmacist was, I understood the impact of medication. I knew that the right medication could give a person another chance at life. Little did I know that these experiences were preparing me for the path I would eventually choose.

Our local pharmacist was someone our family relied on heavily. Every time my brother’s medication needed to be adjusted, he was there to walk us through it. He carefully explained the changes, what they were meant to accomplish, and the side effects my brother might experience. He never made us feel as if we were consuming too much of his time. He treated my family like people who deserved to understand what was happening to their loved ones. That kind of care was not something we took for granted. It shaped how I understood the role of a pharmacist long before I ever considered becoming one.

In April of 2022, my brother passed away at the age of 19. He was my closest friend and someone I had imagined attending university alongside. I watched as the medical team fought against the sepsis brought on by an E. coli infection, to no avail. In that room, grief became my purpose. I knew with complete clarity that pharmacy was my path. His life, and his death, pointed me in the direction I am walking today.

I am proud to say that I come from the Hibbert family, the very family this scholarship was created to celebrate and invest in. Solomon and Elizabeth Hibbert built something remarkable; as hard-working beekeepers they exemplified purpose, resilience and the importance of commitment. I carry the weight of that legacy with pride as I pursue my doctorate in pharmacy. I am not just pursuing a career, but one that allows me to provide something valuable back to my family and the communities that shaped who I am today.

The challenges of chronic illness are personal within my family. In addition to my brother’s seizures, several other members of my family battle diabetes, hypertension and sickle cell disease. Medication has always played a vital role within my family. For many of my relatives, it is the difference between crisis and survival. I have seen both the successes and the failures brought on by the proper or improper use of medication. I want to be the one my relatives call when they need information about their medication. Many of us, especially within Black communities, have had to rely on our own knowledge of health and medical information instead of being taught about it in school. I want to help build that medical literacy within my community and beyond.

Compounding pharmacy continues to be an area of interest for me. My brother’s condition required specific medications that do not always match the average patient, and compounding pharmacies prepare medications to meet the specific needs of an individual. Not every patient faces the same challenges or suffers from the same health issues. Having professionals who can tailor care to each patient’s needs extends beyond what is available in pharmacies today and allows for a personalised form of care and support.

I think often about the connection between chronic illness and financial hardship in marginalised families. Unmanaged disease leads to emergency room visits, missed work, medical debt, and a reduced quality of life that spans generations. As a pharmacist who knows the individuals in the community and has relationships with them, I can help ensure that each person understands their medication and that sticking to the plan can prevent the worsening of both their financial and health conditions. It can prevent hospitalisation. It can keep a parent healthy and present for their children. It can quietly shift the direction of an entire household over time. That is the impact I would love to make — one patient and one family at a time.

The Solomon and Elizabeth Scholarship will make a difference in my ability to pursue this mission. Pharmacy school is a demanding program, but the support and encouragement of my family will propel me forward. My brother is the reason I am on this path, and he is with me every step of the way. As a member of this family, I will use everything I have learned and endured to ensure that other families and our community are provided with the support, guidance and care they need to never feel alone.