St. Jude Children\u2019s Research Hospital\u00ae<\/a>, where she was diagnosed with rhabdomyosarcoma, a rare cancer that develops in soft tissue.<\/p>\n\n\n\nEven at nine, Sabrina understood the gravity of her diagnosis. Cancer was not abstract. Her aunt had died of breast cancer just months earlier, and another uncle had worked decades before at St. Jude as one of its first Black pharmacists.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI was very aware of what cancer was \u2014 and what cancer could do,\u201d Sabrina has said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A Little Soldier With a Notebook<\/h3>\n\n\n\n
Sabrina endured surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation. After a tracheotomy, she woke unable to speak, terrified as she tried to communicate with her grandmother. She spent weeks hospitalized and nearly a year in intense treatment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Through it all, Sabrina carried notebooks with her everywhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Writing became the one thing she could do entirely on her own. While her body was exhausted \u2014 often nauseous, weak, and in pain \u2014 poetry gave her a place to pour out fear, grief, and confusion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s an interesting feeling,\u201d she later reflected, \u201cto know that you are simultaneously growing, but also in the process of dying. I could feel my body at war with itself.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As she recited Hughes\u2019 poem again and again for homework, Sabrina began to fall in love with the way words worked \u2014 their rhythm, their weight, their ability to hold emotion without explanation. It was then that she knew poetry would always be part of her life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Growing Beyond Survival<\/h3>\n\n\n\n
At ten, Sabrina had her first poem published in her school\u2019s literary magazine. She kept writing as she navigated survivorship \u2014 learning that the impact of cancer does not end when treatment does.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At fourteen, she celebrated five years of clear scans, a major milestone for childhood cancer survivors. That same year, she learned radiation therapy had damaged her hearing in one ear. Years later, vision complications surfaced \u2014 another late effect of treatment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Still, Sabrina thrived.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She excelled academically, joined honor societies, ran cross-country, fenced, performed in theater, and eventually became editor-in-chief of the same literary magazine that first published her work. She earned a bachelor\u2019s degree in English and creative writing from Washington University in St. Louis, joined Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc.\u00ae, and returned to Memphis to pursue her Master of Fine Arts at the University of Memphis.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Now 25, Sabrina teaches freshman composition and prepares to defend a thesis exploring grief, Black womanhood, the South \u2014 and poetry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI love sharing my words,\u201d she says. \u201cCreating connections. Making people feel something.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A Legacy Larger Than One Story<\/h3>\n\n\n\n
Sabrina\u2019s journey is deeply personal, but it also reflects the foundation St. Jude was built upon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When St. Jude opened in Memphis in 1962, it became the first fully integrated children\u2019s hospital in the South<\/strong> \u2014 treating patients regardless of race, religion, or ability to pay, and hiring Black doctors, nurses, and researchers at a time when segregation was still the norm.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThat commitment shaped lives.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Early research at St. Jude included studies on sickle cell disease, a condition disproportionately affecting Black communities and long neglected elsewhere. Physicians like Dr. Rudolph Jackson, one of St. Jude\u2019s first Black doctors, helped pioneer treatments that would be shared worldwide.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This legacy of equity and inclusion is what allowed children like Sabrina not only to survive, but to imagine a future beyond illness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSt. Jude Lays Stones for Streets of Safe Passage\u201d<\/h3>\n\n\n\n
In 2022, Sabrina returned to St. Jude not as a patient, but as a poet. She performed an original spoken-word piece titled \u201cWhen I Was Nine,\u201d<\/em> reflecting on fear, faith, and the fragile courage of childhood.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThe poem ends with a line that captures both gratitude and legacy:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSt. Jude lays stones for streets of safe passage
so kids like me can grow up to be adults like me.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nSabrina credits the village that carried her \u2014 her mother, aunt, grandmother, and the institution that refused to turn her away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m not who I am today without St. Jude,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A poet. A survivor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A living reminder that Black legacy lives here<\/strong> \u2014 in resilience, in care, and in the power of words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n