I was born into a big family with five older siblings, and when I was six years old, our family grew again with the birth of my little brother. In a house that full, it wasn’t always easy to feel seen or heard, but even as a child, I found myself standing up for people whose voices were overlooked. I’ve always had a heart for injustice and a desire to help others feel seen, understood, and less alone.

In June 2026, I lost my oldest sister, Danielle, to end-stage liver failure after fighting to be heard by the healthcare system. Before she died, she told our mom that her dying wish was for our family to advocate for better healthcare systems. When Danielle died, a part of me died too, but another part of me was born. Today, I carry her voice alongside my own.

I live with genetically confirmed PARKN-related young onset Parkinson’s disease and use my lived experience to advocate for better healthcare, improved access to treatment, mental health awareness, and the young onset Parkinson’s community. Through my writing, I explore grief, resilience, hope, and what it means to rebuild after life changes forever. I believe people are more than the hardest things they’ve survived, and I hope my words help others feel understood and a little less alone.

One piece that has always stayed with me is Tupac Shakur’s The Rose That Grew from Concrete. The image of a rose growing through concrete reminds me that even in impossible places, something beautiful can still grow. In many ways, that poem has become a reflection of my own life and the person I strive to be.

The Rose That Grew From Concrete – Tupac Shakur

Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete?
Proving natures law is wrong it learned to walk without having feet.
Funny it seems, but by keeping its dreams,
It learned to breathe fresh air.
Long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else ever cared.

Kelsey Enright
Young Onset Parkinson’s Advocate
New York