July 12, 2026
Advice on the Knight-Hennessy Scholarship, Part I
Since winning the Knight-Hennessy Scholarship, I've had multiple prospective applicants reach out seeking advice and support on the award. While I'm always eager to meet with people — especially those who are first-gen or without access to fellowship support services — I can't realistically respond adequately to every single inquiry. But each person tends to ask certain questions, so I figured I'd answer those here. Part I focuses on the application. (I'll post a Part II on the interview and the experience itself, since I think that only matters if you advance that far — but feel free to read it if you need a push to apply.)
Please keep in mind that I applied in Summer 2020 — and so much has changed since! It's very likely that none of this is still relevant, but I'm sharing anyway, because I know that if it were me, I'd be seeking out whatever information I could find.
General information
Why did I apply to the program?
I applied to KH primarily for two reasons: community and freedom.
In terms of community, I recognized that regardless of the Ph.D. program I chose — whether at Stanford or elsewhere — my interactions would likely be confined to a specific academic silo, and connecting with people from other graduate programs would be a daunting task. I sought a diverse community beyond the confines of the lab, one where I could engage with people approaching social justice work from varying perspectives. I was eager to meet others who, like me, were passionate about making a difference in the lives of those living in poverty. I envisioned collaborating with people from fields as diverse as medicine, business, politics, engineering, music, and art — forging connections, working together in solidarity, and having meaningful discussions that extended beyond the realm of neuroscience. That sense of community was essential for my personal and academic growth.
The freedom aspect of KH appealed to me deeply. Having an external funder would eliminate the need to work as a research or teaching assistant to finance my graduate education. This financial independence was more than a desire to avoid extra work; it was a strategic decision. As a minority in science, I was aware of the subtle biases that could affect my journey, and I wanted a financial safety net that would let me navigate those challenges with confidence. I sought assurance that my stipend would not be tied to the school, my lab, or any individual who might misuse financial power to undermine my position in the university. That freedom was crucial for my peace of mind and my ability to focus on my research.
Any general advice?
Firstly — and I acknowledge it's easier said than done, especially coming from someone who won — apply with the expectation of rejection, but view the process as an opportunity for self-discovery. KH will always receive more applications than spots available, and any admissions process is a wild card. (I'm sure there are more than 80–100 people deserving of the award.) I hesitated to apply because I feared rejection, but engaging with the application early proved incredibly valuable: it pushed me to explore my values and motivations, which ended up powerfully reflected not just in my KH application but in subsequent fellowship and scholarship essays. That exercise gave me confidence that even if I didn't win, deeply reflecting on my career motivations would pay off in some capacity.
Secondly, consider starting with your KH bio. When I looked at profiles of past winners, I initially doubted my own worthiness. But drafting my own bio before diving into the application gave me an unexpected sense of pride; it made me feel empowered and confident that my work reflected the KH criteria in its own way. And although I did not win any Herculean awards like a Rhodes or an Olympic medal (which, contrary to popular belief, neither did a majority of the winners!!), writing my bio made me value the academic journey I had instead of what I lacked. The best part of this exercise: if you do win, you'll need to supply a bio anyway — and you'll already have one ready to send.
Does the graduate program you choose matter?
Yes! It does. You need to get into your program in order to win KH. I'm not entirely sure how KH works internally with the various schools on this, but if the program you want won't take you, there's nothing KH can do — even if they really like you, you have to get into Stanford separately.
In my case, as a neuroscience/psychology student, I was in the unusual position of being able to apply to three separate Ph.D. programs at Stanford: Neuroscience through the School of Medicine, Psychology through Arts and Sciences, and Developmental and Psychological Sciences (DAPS) through the Graduate School of Education. I spoke to PIs at each, and I got the strongest signal that the GSE valued my scholarship more than the other departments did. Again, I don't know exactly why I got into my Ph.D. program or was selected for KH — but I can tell you that if I had applied to neuro or psych, I do NOT think I would have gotten in.
I didn’t go to a fancy Ivy League school / don't have a 4.0 GPA / haven't published / lack something someone on Reddit told me I need — what should I do?
I truly, in my heart and soul, trust that the KH admissions team does not care about this (based on frequent conversations with the admissions team). I know several people in KH who did not go to an Ivy or did not have a 4.0 GPA — myself included!
That said, I think this matters more for your graduate program. If SLS cares about where you went to college or your LSAT score, I'm sorry; if a Ph.D. program wants applicants to have published to demonstrate readiness, that's on them. The point is that KH cannot change the admissions culture of your school. So my recommendation is to ask your department that question, not KH.
The application
What are they looking for?
I truly cannot answer this; no one tells you why you get selected — and I have no doubt that among the 9,000+ applications they received the year I applied, there must have been at least one person more qualified than me. But I want to reiterate that they are very clear about the criteria: Independence of Thought, Purposeful Leadership, and Civic Mindset. I implore you to review the criteria closely and ask yourself, "How have I shown civic mindset?"
I'll also note that you don't need to score high on all three. I was told that some applicants strongly exemplify each, while others show remarkable strength in one criterion with some presence of the others. So if you have lots to show for civic mindset but less for independence of thought — that's fine! Just be mindful of this in your application, make sure your letter writers are aware of the criteria, and remember it if you're invited to interview.
Advice on improbable facts?
My #1 advice: don't be pretentious. You may feel tempted to find the most impressive bullet points on your résumé or to name-drop people you know, but I don't think this question is as serious as many applicants assume. (Personally, I had a lot of fun with it.)
To help me answer it, I asked my friends what some improbable facts about me were. What I loved is that no one brought up things from my CV — they brought up pieces of information they'd learned about me that contextualized my journey. One friend shared that they couldn't believe I went to multiple elementary schools (they had assumed I'd had an elite education from early childhood). I didn't know this was interesting — but it became one of my first facts. Another remembered that when I was asked to give a toast to Maud Mandel (Brown's former Dean of the College, who had been named Williams's president), I had to give a speech on the spot — because as a first-gen student, when I was asked to "give a toast," I quite literally thought it meant raising a glass and sharing a few words, not delivering a four-page, single-spaced speech. (I did drink about four glasses of champagne to help with the nerves, but honestly, it was one of my best, favorite, most heartfelt speeches — and I eagerly shared this with KH.) Others noted that I never shut up about NOLS and the time I almost fell off a mountain (added that to my list — and then Luke Peña, then the director of admissions, emailed me when I was named a finalist mentioning that he shares an interest in hiking).
Finally, imagine you're at a cocktail event and someone asks you to share an improbable fact. What can you share in one sentence that invites people to inquire more — that makes them want to connect with you? If someone told me they met Barack Obama, I would walk away (because I don't care, nor do I know what to do with this information). But if someone told me they met Obama because they were dating Malia and had no idea she was the president's daughter (a highly improbable fact, I'm sure) — well, now I have questions, and I'm going to want answers. So I might continue engaging. Or, in the context of KH: invite you for an interview.
How did I approach the primary essay (connecting the dots)?
This is very hard for me to answer, because I haven't read other people's essays — and rereading my own, I don't think it will be winning a Pulitzer any time soon. I don't think it was horrible enough to earn an immediate rejection, but I'm sure not everyone liked it. So rather than sharing my essay, I'll share how I approached it, with those caveats in mind.
Inspired by the Rhodes Scholarship — which forbids applicants from receiving edits on their essays (or at least did the year I applied) — I did not have anyone review my application. As I mentioned above, there was more to this process for me than winning: I wanted to learn about myself, my values, my motivations, my purpose — and I didn't want that diluted by other people's preferences about which stories they like to read or how they think those stories should be told. In fact, I was originally going to submit an essay I'd written for a prior scholarship — it had been reviewed, edited, workshopped — but reading it the morning the application was due, I absolutely hated it. It was not me. Somewhere in the review process it had lost so many dimensions of who I was and had become proud of. So I did something I do not recommend: I rewrote my essay the morning it was due.
I put on some lo-fi music and wrote the essay as if I were giving a speech to the KH team and had five minutes to plead my case: what message did I want them to know about me? The prompt was about "connecting the dots," and after listing all the people and events that had influenced my life, a common thread emerged organically: they all took an unconditional chance on me. Everyone who played a role in my academic and professional journey did something to further my goals — sometimes when maybe I didn't deserve it. For example:
- I wanted to acknowledge Erin Weddington, whom I credit with catapulting me on this journey, because she let me skip a math course even though she probably wasn't allowed to. She could have refused — "it's against policy," or simply because she didn't want to do the work — but because she didn't, I was able to speed through many more math courses (which then helped me get into Brown).
- Then I talked about Annie Cappuccino, my Brown admissions officer, who I'm sure had to fight for my application. I know my admissions file was far from perfect — but still, she read it, advocated for it, and succeeded enough to help me attend a school that was absolutely perfect for me.
These are just a couple of examples, and I realized the theme mirrored what I wanted to express: that I'm pursuing a Ph.D. at the GSE because I want to help others access opportunities denied to them — and to explore, together, what happens from a neuroscientific approach. Much of the research that came before presented low-income communities from a deficit perspective (what they lack, how they differ in negative ways), but I was raising questions about possibilities and assets if we examined circumstances and environments instead of individual-level behavior.
I want to reiterate that everyone's approach will differ — this is just how I wrote my essay. Some people submit something "safer" (a standard fellowship essay), and others approach it in their own way, like I did. Whichever you choose, and as trite as this might be: be you!!
And I highly encourage you to think of this essay as an essay for you — not for KH exclusively. You might lose, but don't let the outcome taint the opportunity. If you can write something you're incredibly proud of and want others to read, that in itself is a victory. Be proud of what you write, and give KH the privilege of reading some of your work — whether or not it lands you an interview or the scholarship.
Still have questions?
You are more than welcome to email me — and I'll do my absolute best to get back to you! I may also add questions to this post as they come. And if you advance to the interview stage: congratulations, and keep an eye out for Part II.