The below piece is the winning collegiate essay in the Network of Enlightened Women’s Lead Like a Lady Essay Contest.
“Are you here to visit a patient?” I stand on my toes to peek over the reception desk, which towers over my 7-year-old frame. I’m curious as to why they always ask that question, not realizing that most people arrive here under unfortunate circumstances.
The receptionist flashes me a warm smile and hands me a pink, rectangular sticker with a black-and-white picture of my dad with the words “My Child” underneath. I proudly press the identifier onto my dress as my dad and I walk to the elevators, past the gift shop with the giant plush giraffe and the security guard who always says hello. The elevator doors slide open to Level 3, where we wait for the social worker to come and get me. The doors to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit finally open, and I am hit with the familiar scent of antiseptic and a list of families whose babies are exactly like I was as a newborn, all in need of a little hope.
In my head, I practice the words that have never failed to provide that sense of comfort: “Hi, my name is Maya Tharoo, and if it’s OK, I just wanted to talk to you about my story from when I was a premature baby, just like your child, in this same hospital …”
Even at the age of 7, I knew that my ability to lead through compassion was not only a skill that came naturally to me, but that it was an essential part of my identity and would be evident in my pursuits throughout my life. My monthly visits to the NICU at the Winnie Palmer Hospital for Women & Babies had shown me the profound power of leading by example. All of the families I’ve conversed with over the years have come from different walks of life, but from the moment that I enter their preemie’s pod, we are immediately able to connect over our shared experiences with premature birth. I feel incredibly fortunate that my story is able to provide families with hope during their vulnerable times, and my experiences with them have instilled a desire within me to keep serving others.
I had so many great female mentors and leaders at the hospital whom I looked up to and who inspired me to keep giving. The most memorable were the NICU nurses. As I journeyed from pod to pod, I would see the nurses working so hard and still making time to chat with me and tell me anecdotes from when I was in the hospital and when they would take care of me. I still think back to those moments for inspiration. Their commitment and care inspired me to create Miracle Makers, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization, when I was 13. Our mission is to support premature babies and their families. Through Miracle Makers, I have volunteered over 1,200 hours in nine years, and the feeling of giving to my community never gets old.
In 2018, I was given the amazing opportunity to speak at a TEDx Talk. I gave my talk on the concept of youth philanthropy and why it is important for nonprofit groups to use the talents of younger generations. To this day, I still get messages and comments from my friends who watched my Ted Talk in school as part of assignments created by their teachers, and they tell me how inspired they are to make a difference in a way they are passionate about. This is what I hope every young person is able to find for themselves, especially young women such as myself.
Now, at 18 years old and under 5 feet tall (a byproduct of my prematurity), I still need to stand on my toes to peer over the reception desk at the hospital, but I’ve replaced the “My Child” sticker with an official badge. The gift shop giraffe still stands, and the smell of antiseptic still provides a sense of comfort, not fear. Whenever I return to the hospital and bond with families over our shared identity, I am reminded of my 7-year-old self. Even though we are separated by more than a decade and can seem like two entirely different people, our identity as leaders remains the same.
Maya Tharoo is a freshman at Washington University in St. Louis.
