John Gomez, MD Memorial Scholarship

Sports have shaped my life from the beginning, and baseball has always been the place where I felt most at home. It taught me discipline, patience, and how much I should enjoy being in the moment. I plan to use these lessons and have them drive me to reach my end goal: become an orthopedic surgeon with a focus on sports medicine. I want to help athletes return to the activities that define them, just as many doctors have helped me through my own injuries. Amid the start of the most important two seasons of my baseball career I was hit with my first injury, a broken wrist. I was lucky enough to be able to keep training off the field, but was sadly not able to take part in on-field activities. Going through rehab and build-up was rough, but truly gave me a perspective on not taking for granted being on that field. Yet, my senior year brought the most serious setback, one that cut my chances of being recruited in half. I had partially tore my ulnar collateral ligament (UCL) and was going to be out of throwing for a long time. For someone who had dedicated his entire life to the sport, it felt like watching a dream slip away. I had always pictured myself playing in college, and suddenly that future felt uncertain. Even though the situation was painful, it forced me to grow. I learned to focus on what I could control. I committed to my rehab, stayed involved with my team, and kept working even when I could not play. During that time off I had, I tried to look at it as an opportunity to develop myself, not only physically, but also as a person. An upside I gained from that, an opportunity to lean into service, which had always grounded me and reminded me of the bigger picture. One of the most meaningful experiences I have had came from volunteering with Miracle League, an organization that gives kids with special needs the chance to play baseball. That is where I met James. At first, he was quiet and unsure of himself. I introduced myself, told him I played baseball too, and said I was there to make sure he had fun. Slowly, he began to open up. We practiced throwing and fielding, and he asked me how to throw harder. Week by week, I watched his confidence grow. The moment that changed me came when I saw him teaching another player the same steps I had taught him. He said, “Get it, step, step, and throw,” with a huge smile on his face. On the last day, his mom told me he had talked about me all week and wanted to “hit like Bryson.” That simple comment showed me what service truly means. It is not about being in charge. It is about showing up, listening, and giving someone the support they need to believe in themselves. This experience helped me understand the kind of person I want to be. Dr. John Gomez was known for his strong work ethic, his generosity, and his willingness to go above and beyond for others. Those are qualities I hope to carry into my own career. I want to help people through their hardest moments and give them the chance to return to what they love. James’s smile stays with me. It reminds me that service has the power to change lives, including my own. It is the reason I want to spend my life helping others heal and move forward.

From a very young age, my parents instilled a mindset of gratitude into my moral compass. Due to the hard work of my parents, and their immigrant parents before them, my siblings and I have been able to enjoy opportunities they never could. With each meal, plane ride, and day at school, my parents reminded me how fortunate I was. As I’ve matured, this mentality has blossomed as I’ve worked to escape the bubble of ignorance caused by growing up in the suburbs. I make sure that I never take my life for granted as I educate myself on the hardships and tragedies all over the world. The normalities of my life are luxuries to others, and with this understanding, I feel a responsibility to do my part to make the world a better place. Community service has been woven into my life since my youth. I grew up a Girl Scout, organizing food drives and visiting nursing homes. While I knew these efforts were for a good cause, it was difficult to fully comprehend the weight of the issues at hand. That changed when I discovered Days for Girls. I first learned about this organization through a close friend of mine. She explained the mission of Days for Girls was to provide high-quality, reusable feminine hygiene products to girls in Africa. This cause struck me more than any previous service project. As a girl myself, I knew how painful and disruptive periods could be, from stabbing cramps to vicious mood swings. I couldn’t imagine having to endure all of that without the help of Advil and adequate products. I was reminded that the box of tampons sitting in my cabinet was not a privilege all girls have. This inequity is one of the many examples of women's health being overlooked and pushed aside worldwide. Every woman has a right to have access to safe, capable hygiene products and I wanted to help this cause. At my first volunteer event, I was welcomed into an ambassador's house. Inside, I saw people from all walks of life, from young girls to middle aged men. Together we worked in stations, sewing together durable fabric in order to craft long-lasting pads. As we worked, I got to learn more about the cause as well as converse with the other volunteers. Though some of us did not speak the same language and we all lived different lives, everyone had come together because we believed in the cause. We believed that no girl should ever be left without a necessity as basic as a pad. This experience was eye opening for me and for that I am forever grateful. I am aware that I live a privileged life. I have a loving family, a good education, and a roof over my head. Though, it is important to remember to zoom out. I believe it is the duty of those fortunate to share their blessings with others. I would like to continue my work in service to help those who are not as fortunate which is why pursuing a career in medicine is very important to me. I am a passionate advocate for women’s health as well as other causes, and I would like to use my voice to spread awareness. While working in medicine, I will have the tools to make a real impact on my community. In doing this, it’s my belief that we can cultivate a better, kinder tomorrow.

When I was younger, I would go to my mom’s workplace, Wayne State University in Detroit, Michigan, to help her with her grant program, Athletes with Autism (AwA). As a peer model in AwA, I befriended hundreds of kids with developmental disorders like autism spectrum disorder and intellectual disabilities. I learned firsthand how different the world can be when you are not born “normal.” That said, my perception of my relationships with the kids quickly became “normal.” This thing that I did, that we did, it must be common…unexceptional…”normal.” However, as I’ve gotten older—and more aware—I’ve realized that nothing about my childhood experience was “normal.” The kids in AwA were from schools in the heart of Detroit (a historically underserved community) with limited funds, staff, and educational opportunities. For most, AwA was the only time each week they were physically active in an educational environment. It was my time with that community that, from an early age, defined what service truly looks like to me. Working with kids like that gives you instant perspective. You see how to celebrate sport and time with those like yourself. But it also gives you instant gratification because you see that what you do can have a positive impact on another’s life. My time spent in AWA has shaped how I interact in social spaces and with others. I had to learn how to communicate and interact with others who experience the world much differently than I did. Those experiences as a child made me a better communicator who is prepared to change my manner or method of messaging to more effectively get the idea across. No matter how different I am from the person I’m talking with, I know that we share a point of commonality from which we can build a relationship. As I entered my junior year, I was once again offered the opportunity to use my time to better the lives of others. Alongside three of my classmates, I founded the Argyle Chapter of the Dear Future Foundation. This educational non-profit is dedicated to the distribution of educational materials such as writing implements, books, and other forms of educational infrastructure in sub-Saharan African countries. Over four months, my teammates and I raised north of $5,000 to outfit numerous all-girls schools in Uganda with textbooks, desks, and salaries for teachers. But once again, I wasn't enthralled with satisfaction because we raised some money. The true joy came a few weeks later when we were able to read letters from the students that we could read because of the English textbooks we paid for. It came a month later when we were able to call these kids and see the smiles on their faces when they talked about the feeling of excitement that writing on crisp, clean paper can give you. It is through these formative experiences that I see my career plans form. I have continued to use my time and labor to advocate for universal access to an equitable and quality education. I want to pursue an education in political science, government, and public policy so that I can use my legal expertise to ensure that millions of Americans are receiving the aid and resources that the government is required by law to provide them. I hope to ensure that every American has access to the education that society promises them. My community has assuredly served me; it's time to return the favor.

Service is an integral building block to communities all around the world. Assisting others whether it be with one’s time, effort, or money is the basis of all progression that we make as a society. However service, to me, can also be passive. Servitude doesn’t always have to be a grandiose gesture that screams for attention. Sometimes the most meaningful acts are ones that are quietly made with the same noble intentions. Growing up in a large family, acts of service were a rigid expectation that kept the peace of the household intact. We all had to do our part to chip in with chores and mediation of futile quarrels. However, I had an even greater role to take on. My eldest brother, EJ, is disabled. His Down Syndrome limits him substantially in life. He will never be able to drive, live on his own, or provide for himself. While this has never seemed to bother him- his laughter never failing to fill up a room and his positivity never wavering- it has weighed heavily on my heart. My parents have done their very best to provide him with everything that he has wished for over the years. In addition to him, they are tasked with 5 other children who also have medical needs; a daughter with Turner’s syndrome, another daughter with Celiac disease, and yet another daughter with a Chiari malformation to name a few. Dealing with all these complications was no easy feat physically, emotionally, or financially. My parents weren’t magical beings who can make a wish come true at the wave of a wand; I became aware of this fact at a young age. Therefore, I made it my mission to make myself as easy as possible. Preceding my own recent diagnosis of a neurological disorder, all I had wrong with me was a broken bone here and there, so I felt it was my responsibility to allow my parents to focus their attention on my siblings who needed it. For me, service took on many different acts. While making sure my sibling had all that they needed, I made sure that I was able to be as independent as possible. I braved elementary Open-House’s, Daddy-daughter donut day, and bring-your parent-to-school days alone. When it came time to go on our class field trip to Sky Ranch, I had my friend’s parents who chaperoned. It wasn’t the best feeling when my mother went to my little sister’s and older sister’s trip, but I understood because of their medical needs. I also made sure to never ask for more than I needed. I watched as my brother EJ got grand Christmas presents and solo trips to see family and felt genuinely happy for him. While I was not always pleased with this configuration of dynamics within my family- many times I have felt secondary or unimportant- I maintained my servitude in the only way I knew: understanding. I understood the way that things were worked like that for a reason. I understood that perfection was not always attainable. I understood that my parents love for me wasn’t any less than. It took me the better half of my childhood to accept these facts, but left me nevertheless contented. My service to my family has allowed my siblings- EJ especially- to have the happiness that they deserved. In doing this, I have become a more independent, sympathetic, and altruistic person. Serving my family never needed to be active and loud; I provided in the way I was able to and I am grateful for the lessons that it brought.

From an early age, I have been driven by a core ambition - to pursue a career in medicine helping others as an endocrinologist. This focused path was catalyzed by my best friend's diagnosis with diabetes during our teenage years. Watching her struggle with managing her condition and facing the harsh realities of a chronic illness crystallized my desire to specialize in treating endocrine disorders. I want to advance research, develop better treatments, and provide compassionate care for patients grappling with diseases that profoundly impact nearly every aspect of life. While my professional goals have remained concentrated in the medical field, a personal obstacle further shed light on the importance of service. During a busy choir season, I was devastated when vocal nodules threatened to silence my singing voice and derail my musical passion temporarily. I had been singing in choir since the fifth grade, and having to stop for six months felt impossible. The rehabilitation process of complete vocal rest followed by extensive therapy was grueling. However, it was this challenge that revealed the deep fulfillment that can come from using your talents to serve others. As I worked tirelessly to regain my voice, I was given the opportunity to volunteer as a music instructor at a local middle school. Leading rehearsals and watching these students grow as musicians reignited my sense of purpose. While my professional goals remained fixed on medicine and science, this experience cemented my commitment to finding avenues for service throughout my life and career. The obstacle of losing then regaining my voice showed me that our struggles can paradoxically uncover unanticipated paths to meaning and impact through helping others. My endocrinology career will allow me to help patients manage complex conditions as a form of service. But my rehabilitation also inspired me to seek out ways to be a source of hope, empowerment and enrichment in my community, regardless of my specific vocation. Ultimately, while my focused ambition is to make a difference in endocrinology, my journey has taught me the necessity of a parallel, life-long pursuit - harnessing my abilities as an instrument of service. Whether through clinical care or creative outlets, I am committed to applying my knowledge and skills as a force of benefit for those around me. Witnessing the life-changing effects of disease and disability has instilled a calling to uplift and facilitate healing in whatever means I can. By devoting myself to both scientific expertise and community engagement, I know I can realize my fullest potential as an agent of service working to create a brighter future for all.