Spring 2025 Winner of the Road to Recovery Scholarship

Ju-Woo Nho

In her essay, Ju-Woo shares her experience of coping with survivor’s guilt after a devastating car crash. She realized she was able to make a positive impact on her mother’s healing journey. Inspired by this, she now volunteers with various organizations, giving back to those in need. Congratulations, Ju-Woo, and we admire your resilience!

Read Ju-Woo’s essay here:

After a drunk driver crashed into our car, I woke up in the hospital, my body broken and bruised. My leg was shattered, and my head had been stitched together in several places. At six years old, I couldn’t understand why I had survived while my family was left broken. My mother had been severely injured, her body held together by metal rods and screws. My sister, tragically, had died instantly from the crash. As I lay in the hospital bed, all I could do was stare at my hands, feeling guilty for surviving when I felt I should have done more. Why didn’t I do something to stop the accident? Why couldn’t I save my sister?

My broken leg required a long time to heal due to multiple fractures, and after painful physical therapy, I learned to walk again with two slightly uneven legs. Though my body healed, my heart remained heavy with guilt. I couldn’t escape the feeling that I hadn’t done enough. I threw myself into activities to distract from the pain. I drilled violin concertos for hours, sketched countless portraits, and flipped through Atlas of Human Anatomy . Yet, everything I did felt meaningless, reminding me of my inability to help my mother and sister on that day.

One evening, my mother—still fragile from her injuries—took my hands in hers and kissed my forehead. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me,” she whispered. “You’ve been my strength through all of this.” For the first time, I realized that my hands had not been useless. They had been there to help my mother when she couldn’t help herself. They had fetched her things she needed, comforted her with music, and massaged areas to play a crucial role in her recovery. My hands, which I had once hated, had actually made a difference.

My hands have a new purpose. They no longer tremble with fear. I have founded a music volunteer organization, providing comfort to over 2,500 individuals in hospitals, nursing homes, and prisons through music. I am inspired to use music to alleviate emotional pain and uplift those in need. With these hands, I fight food insecurity through the Sustainable Food Initiative and the Food Recovery Network. I lead the collection of over 100 pounds of food each week, delivering it to shelters and food banks in my community.

From my experiences, I aspire to become a surgeon. I have been accepted to the Warren Alpert Medical School at Brown University, where I will train to heal others just as I was healed. I want to use my experience of pain and recovery to guide me in helping others recover from their own physical and emotional injuries.

So, when I place a sketch of my sister’s dimpled smile and wispy baby hairs on her grave, I whisper my promise: With these hands, I will touch the lives of others.