Since childhood, I’ve been exposed to the world of medicine and health. Whether it was cancer, diabetes, or heart disease, it seemed like my family had encountered every health issue imaginable throughout their lives. Being so young, my outlook on health was shaped by the continuous problems those around me were plagued by. I began seeing my health as something to constantly worry about and be afraid of. A hospital seemed like the worst place to be, and doctors appeared to be the universal bearers of bad news. After entering middle school, I found myself captivated by the fields of biology and health studies. As I learned about how the body works and why problems occur, I realized my health isn’t something to fear. So many of the issues that my family endured can be prevented. They can be cured. They can be overcome. This realization sparked an interest for me in the careers of science and healthcare, and I knew STEM was the field I wanted to pursue. Fortunately, a STEM-focused high school that prepares students for the workforce was in my district. By attending this high school, I have been able to gain many unique STEM experiences, which strongly correlate with my desire to pursue a career in medicine. In my courses, we have completed activities such as dissecting animal brains and hearts, completing forensics investigations and solving a “crime”, simulating how to handle medical outbreaks or emergencies, and many more. These experiences have shaped my career aspirations by introducing me to branches of medicine I didn’t know existed, as well as strengthening my interest in the field. While I am fortunate enough to attend a school with girls and boys alike interested in pursuing STEM careers, this hasn’t made me immune to criticism and judgment based on my gender. As an Indian American with immigrant parents, I have received much condemnation from family members for my career aspirations. My parents have always supported my goals, but much of my extended family is firm in their beliefs about traditional gender roles. Indian women are often expected to take on domestic tasks, serving the role of mother and wife rather than more ambitious roles. As such, many of my family members have doubted me and tried to derail my aspirations. I’d be lying if I said these comments haven’t had an effect on me, and I often have to fight off the doubt they have placed on me. My determination to become a medical professional, as well as my eagerness to prove that women are more than just mothers and wives, have helped me overcome these challenges. I know I’m capable of achieving my goals, and my drive for this STEM career fuels me to persist. After my tumultuous childhood, it took me a long time to recognize the value of medical professionals. They didn’t get enjoyment from delivering bad news, or from watching families experience the hardest times of their lives. They endured it because they knew they could help and had the power to change lives for the better. Having the opportunity to help people while loving what I do drives my passion for STEM. Science has fascinated me for so long, and using what I’ve learned to aid others would be a great privilege. My experiences and love for STEM have helped me reach where I am today, and they will continue to fuel me as I begin my higher education. Because I won’t be the scared little girl sitting in the waiting room anymore, but the doctor who assures her that everything will be okay.

For me, being Asian American is much more complex than just words. As a Trinidadian with an Indian heritage who lives in America, I struggled with understanding and embracing my Asian background. Growing up, I was constantly surrounded by people who didn’t look like me and who didn’t understand the culture I had. Despite the support my family provided me, the echoes of those people from my childhood can still be heard throughout my life. As a girl with brown skin, I often felt different than those around me. However, what was worse to me was trying to explain to people my background. In the 1800s, many Indians were brought to Trinidad and other islands in the Caribbean as indentured servants, as sugarcane was plentiful there. After indentureship ended, Indians on the island were free to do as they pleased, and many lived the rest of their lives in Trinidad. Thus, despite the many years since Indians were brought to Trinidad, the Indian heritage of many inhabitants is undeniable. When I was in elementary school, I didn’t know this history. Explaining to people that I was both Trinidadian and Indian often confused them, as I didn’t understand it myself. "How are you Indian if you’re not from India? You don’t look Indian. You don’t have an accent. Are you sure you’re both?" Eventually, these inquiries led me to question my own identity as well, and I began to tell people I was only from Trinidad. It seemed easier than explaining something I couldn’t quite grasp myself, and I knew strong reactions often come from telling someone you’re Indian. In middle school, I was fully exposed to the racism and stereotypes that are pushed upon Indians. Being a Hindu as well, I was subject to blatant racism and mockery, and I became ashamed of my culture and religion. Even today, racism towards Indians and Asians as a whole has become so normalized, and it truly damages people’s self-esteem. At the time, I didn’t realize how harmful it was to be embarrassed by your culture, and I only became aware of its severity much later on. After entering high school, I began meeting people who looked like me and faced the same challenges of being an Indian American. For so long, I had felt like no one else could understand the struggles of being brown in America, but I soon realized I wasn’t alone. Unfortunately, learning to love and accept your culture is a challenge that many Asian Americans have to overcome. For me, the first step of this process was recognizing that everyone comes from their own unique culture, and they’re all worth celebrating. Once I had this realization, I became interested in learning more about my heritage. After learning about India’s tumultuous history, I began commending the strength and perseverance my ancestors had for enduring such hardships. Not only did they survive the obstacles of indentured servitude, they also were able to remain in Trinidad and develop it into the country it is today. Trinidad is a beautiful island with a rich culture, and I’m proud to call myself a Trinidadian and Indian. Despite the advancements Trinidad has made, higher education isn’t as normal as it is in America. Luckily, America has many opportunities for people of all backgrounds to succeed. I would like to pursue higher education to achieve my goal of becoming a doctor and to make all those who came before me proud. Being an Indian in America can be hard, but resilience has helped me reach where I am now, and I’m just getting started.

When I was seven years old, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. Being so young, I didn’t truly understand the severity and complexity of the situation. My older brothers were constantly worried, my parents frequently went to doctor’s appointments, extended family visited more and more often, and I didn’t grasp why. However, when I was nine years old, my mother’s condition gradually deteriorated, until she finally passed away on Thanksgiving. At nine years old, I had never felt the full weight of grief and sadness before, and to say this event shook me would be an understatement. Of course, I was overcome by sadness and despair, but I also felt pangs of anger that I wouldn’t have expected. How was I supposed to live the rest of my life without my mother? My father, how was it fair to him to lose his wife and the mother of his children? Why didn’t the doctors heal and save her? Friends and family stayed with us for as long as they could, but eventually, they had to leave, and some kind of normal life had to resume. To make this transition easier, my father had us attend counseling sessions with a therapist. While I mostly don’t remember these sessions, I do know that they helped me make sense of my situation and the feelings I was experiencing. It was normal to feel anger during the grief process, and feeling empathy for others was not a weakness, especially considering my family’s circumstances. Both of my parents immigrated to America before I was born, leaving behind everything they had ever known in search of a better life for their family. It was a difficult process, but the support and love they had for their family helped them endure it. The loss of my mother undoubtedly hurt my father, and becoming a single parent to three children wasn’t an easy feat either. In retrospect, my father did an incredibly good job of reassuring and providing for us alone, but there were certainly struggles that he continues to face even now. My father has a low income, and the costs of college aren’t cheap, to say the least. Additionally, my older brother is currently in college as well, and my father finances his education. The added cost of me becoming a college student will place more weight on my father’s shoulders, and while I know he is determined to provide for us as much as he can, I don’t wish to burden him more. He has always helped and supported me throughout my life, and he understands how important college is to my career path. For a long time after my mother’s death, I resented doctors and the healthcare system. I was angry at them because they hadn’t saved my mother, believing them responsible for her untimely death. As I grew older though, I realized they weren’t to blame for what happened to her. They had done everything they could to save her, and they were the only ones who could help her situation. This realization inspired in me a love for medicine and healthcare, and as I embark on my college journey, I am certain that I want to become a doctor. To help others face the toughest challenges by providing them with kindness and compassion would be the greatest honor of my life. Receiving a scholarship like this will help me finance my education to reach these goals, while also removing some of the burden from my father. While the doctors couldn’t save my mother’s life, perhaps I could help save others.