Working as a caregiver helped confirm my aspirations to become a physician and positively give back to my community through a career in medicine. I cared for “An,” a morbidly obese woman who needed help preparing for bariatric surgery and eating healthier. Weighing 600 pounds, her quality of life was limited. We discussed her weight loss goals and the steps we would take to reach them, starting with diet changes. We had agreed that I would help An stay accountable as she worked towards her goals. I was determined to help An gain control of her health and her life. Although An showed resistance, she obliged my attempts to help her lose weight. At Aldi’s, I took An to the fresh produce aisle and worked with her to choose meals that she would like. We picked out broccoli and salmon to cook for dinner. When we got home, An shared feeling anxious about the weight-loss process; I held her hand and encouraged her, citing her earlier motivations to lose the 30 pounds required for surgery. Over the next few weeks, I saw An begin to transform; eventually, she could take small and even more significant steps. She lost 30 pounds, and her surgeon approved her for bariatric surgery. Patients like An reminded me of the importance of emotional support within the medicine of healing. An’s journey taught me that optimal patient care requires treating emotional and spiritual needs as part of a whole-person approach. I translated these same lessons while volunteering in the NICU, where I cuddled newborns with compromised immunity. As I cradled “May,” I hoped my lullabies would sing her to sleep or at least give her a few moments of distraction from her withdrawal symptoms. Her crying faded as I coaxed a warm bottle into her mouth. When I handed May off to the team of doctors and nurses, I wished I could do more to help her. Over the next several weeks, May’s crying became less shrill and less frequent. Although the physicians were helping May medically during this time, I do believe that cuddling May played a part in her healing journey as she battled the opioid addiction that she was born with. Cuddling newborns like May allowed me to recognize the importance of treating the entire person, even in newborns. May’s recovery motivates me to become a doctor treating the patient’s emotional and physical needs and illness, and this is how I will give back to my community. Throughout my experiences, I have grown to see that the best medicine considers all aspects of the patient and treats the patient’s emotional health and physical symptoms. Caring for ill patients and cuddling babies allowed me to observe the impact of these ideals tangibly throughout the entire spectrum of an individual’s life. Every day, I exemplify a spirit of excellence by caring for patients with the utmost passion and respect to heal them and improve their quality of life. As a medical student at California Health Sciences University, I will learn to incorporate the practice of caring for patients by caring for them beyond the symptoms and using these past experiences to incorporate a whole-person approach. As a future psychiatrist, I understand the importance of treating mental health when caring for patients. I will work to serve underserved communities by helping end the mental health stigma. One day, I will also create a free clinic for low-income individuals to eradicate medical disparities in medicine as my way of giving back to the community.

The adaptation of Leigh Bardugo's Shadow and Bone into a Netflix series gave me an experience that allowed me to see myself in a way I never had before. Alina Starkov, the protagonist of the series, is portrayed as Asian, and this representation deeply impacted me as an Asian woman. This shift made me feel more included and validated in the world of entertainment that I had always loved but never quite saw myself in. The series bridged the gap between reading and viewing experiences by adding depth to Alina's character. Alina's ethnicity is caucasian, as shown in the books. While the book is captivating, all the characters are caucasian, and there is no diversity. However, in the Netflix series, Alina is portrayed as a young Asian woman, played by actress Jessie Mei Li. For me, this was a game-changer. As an Asian woman, seeing someone who looked like me in the lead role of a series was incredibly validating. Alina's portrayal in the series made me feel seen, something the books never fully achieved due to the lack of representation. This shift in Alina's character not only made me feel more connected to the story but also deepened my appreciation for the power of representation in media. Growing up, I often wished for more characters in books and movies who reflected my identity—characters who weren't defined by stereotypes but had strength and complexity. In the show, Alina is not a passive figure, as Asian women are portrayed. She is the heart of the story, a young woman coming into her power and facing the challenges to save the world. By casting an Asian actress in this role, the show made it clear that this fantasy world could be as diverse as our own and that people of all backgrounds are worthy of being the heroes of their stories. The series' incorporation of Alina's ethnicity into its character development adds an extra layer of depth to her identity that the books couldn't quite capture. Alina's experiences of feeling out of place or misunderstood resonated with me, as these are feelings many Asian women face in real life when trying to reconcile their cultural heritage with the pressures of fitting into a predominantly Western society. This made Alina's journey of self-acceptance even more powerful and infused with life. The cast's performances also brought these new dimensions to life. Jessie Mei Li's portrayal of Alina left me speechless. She captured Alina's internal conflict and strength in an honest way. Alina's humanity struggles with belonging and the desire to do good in a world that often feels dark and oppressive, making her compelling. The series resonated with me because women of color are portrayed as side characters, and it was empowering to see Alina break this stereotype. The director's vision also played a crucial role in elevating the story. The decision to infuse the show with diverse casting choices and embrace a more inclusive representation made the Grishaverse relatable to a broader audience. While I still appreciate the Shadow and Bone books, the Netflix adaptation, with its inclusive casting and portrayal of Alina's character, resonates with me on a much deeper level. It's rare to see a character like Alina take center stage. This representation made me feel included in a world where I previously felt like an outsider. It allowed me to see myself reflected in ways the books couldn't. Ultimately, this adaptation didn't just bring Alina's story to life—it also made it feel like my story. And that, more than anything, is why I will favor the series over the books.

My name is Caitlin. I am 22 years young, and I was born in the spring of May 24, 2002. My favorite color is the sunset, and I have a sister (canine) named Yuki. I am Vietnamese American, and my family fled to the United States soon after the war. My favorite flowers are lotus flowers. Like myself, lotus flowers share their roots in Vietnam, and their beauty derives from rising above the muck in times of adversity. My name is Caitlin, and this is my story. My story begins many years before I was born. My story is my parents' story because everything in my life now is attributed to my parents' struggles to pursue a better life for our family in America as refugees who fled from their communist and war-stricken homeland of Vietnam. Since Vietnamese was our first language, my parents often struggled to find employment due to the language barrier, and as a family, we suffered financially. Growing up in an immigrant family has never been easy— besides financial struggles, I had to be the translator between my parents and the outside world. Since childhood, I have experienced many challenges associated with being bilingual. In elementary school, I had to learn English separately from the Vietnamese language my parents taught me. I acted as the translator at parent-teacher conferences so my parents could understand my teacher and vice versa. I took my parents and grandparents to doctors' appointments and translated their health care concerns from Vietnamese to English and English to Vietnamese when I spoke to their doctor. I soon realized that communication barriers in healthcare exist because of the lack of Vietnamese doctors. As a child, I was grateful to be able to translate and help my parents receive the medical care that they needed. Without my help, I realized that my parents and grandparents would have always struggled to communicate with their doctors. Other immigrants whose first language is not English can possibly lead to a lack of trust and fear when receiving healthcare. As a first-generation medical student at California Health Sciences University, I will advocate for ending language barriers for Vietnamese Americans and other immigrants so that they can receive the healthcare they need. A benefit to being bilingual and a child of Vietnamese immigrants will allow me to empathize with other immigrants and people of color who face language barriers to accessing the healthcare that they so desperately need. When I become a physician, I hope to focus on decreasing the gap between the privileged and people of color like myself by providing life-saving medical care. One day, I hope to start a clinic that provides free or significantly reduced medical care treatment for those struggling in poverty and racial minorities who need it most. In addition, I dream of contributing to the diversity of medicine as a woman of color because I want to represent people like myself and also become an advocate to end language barriers and racial disparities in the healthcare system by educating other healthcare professionals to end racial bias. I will use my personal experiences of discrimination against minorities in the healthcare industry as the drive to better my community and end perfectly preventable racial disparities in the medical field. I will use my education to become a physician so that racial minorities like myself don't have to rely on a broken system and live in a world where their native tongue and the color of their skin dictate what medical treatment they receive and, ultimately, whether they live or die.

I remember when my brother collapsed onto the floor of our 1-bedroom apartment. He was only 3 years old and choking on a quarter he had been playing with. I screamed as his mouth began to turn blue, and my parents came sprinting for the phone. The bill for the ambulance and the hospital stay made my parents' faces look almost as scared as they were when they found their child's face turned blue. We didn't have health insurance then and were choking on an empty wallet instead of a quarter. I understand that calling for medical assistance is necessary in times of life or death. However, it shouldn't have to cost an arm and a leg, which often does for immigrant families and minorities since many cannot afford health insurance. Since childhood, I faced challenges caused by systemic discrimination against financially struggling minorities under the shackles of the capitalistic healthcare system. There is no doubt that people of color like myself face more obstacles when accessing resources such as healthcare and education. People of color and immigrants are more likely to suffer from poverty and will experience barriers to accessing education and, therefore, face underrepresentation in STEM fields like medicine. My parents are Vietnamese refugees who fled to the United States and were fortunate to escape execution from the communist regime. However, they still suffer from social determinants of health as low-income refugees in the US. Since childhood, our household income was so low that we had to live on food stamps and government housing just to survive. My immigrant family and my personal experiences of discrimination based on economic status and being people of color have influenced me to advocate for people of color in medicine and to pursue a career as a physician. Growing up, I never saw Vietnamese American women physicians, and it was difficult to imagine myself as a physician. Despite being underrepresented in medicine, I used this realization to inspire me to pursue a career in STEM and medicine and advocate for people of color in medicine to make a difference. As a woman of color and a Vietnamese American medical student, I will help foster a world where people like myself can contribute their unique ideas and support educational advancement regardless of skin color or socioeconomic status. I hope to represent my Vietnamese heritage as a future female physician and eliminate economic and cultural barriers for students of color in medicine and STEM careers so that they can pursue their passions and innovative ideas. As a low-income medical student at California Health Sciences, I will decrease the gap between the rich and the poor by providing free, life-saving medical care. One day, I hope to start a clinic that provides free medical treatment for those struggling in poverty and racial minorities who need it most. I will overcome the challenges of discrimination against low-income individuals in the healthcare industry as the drive to better my community and end perfectly preventable financial disparities in the medical field. I will pursue an education in STEM to create a positive impact and become a physician so that low-income individuals like myself don't have to rely on a broken system and live in a world where their economic status or skin color dictates what medical treatment they receive and, ultimately, whether they live or die.

Working as a caregiver helped confirm my aspirations to become a physician and positively impact the world through a career in medicine. I cared for “An,” a morbidly obese woman who needed help preparing for bariatric surgery and eating healthier. Weighing 600 pounds, her quality of life was limited. We discussed her weight loss goals and the steps we would take to reach them, starting with diet changes. We had agreed that I would help An stay accountable as she worked towards her goals. I was determined to help An gain control of her health and her life. Although An showed resistance, she obliged my attempts to help her lose weight. At Aldi’s, I took An to the fresh produce aisle and worked with her to choose meals that she would like. We picked out broccoli and salmon to cook for dinner. When we got home, An shared feeling anxious about the weight-loss process; I held her hand and encouraged her, citing her earlier motivations to lose the 30 pounds required for surgery. Over the next few weeks, I saw An begin to transform; eventually, she could take small and even more significant steps. She lost 30 pounds, and her surgeon approved her for bariatric surgery. Patients like An reminded me of the importance of emotional support within the medicine of healing. An’s journey taught me that optimal patient care requires treating emotional and spiritual needs as part of a whole-person approach. I translated these same lessons while volunteering in the NICU, where I cuddled newborns with compromised immunity. As I cradled “May,” I hoped my lullabies would sing her to sleep or at least give her a few moments of distraction from her withdrawal symptoms. Her crying faded as I coaxed a warm bottle into her mouth. When I handed May off to the team of doctors and nurses, I wished I could do more to help her. Over the next several weeks, May’s crying became less shrill and less frequent. Although the physicians were helping May medically during this time, I do believe that cuddling May played a part in her healing journey as she battled the opioid addiction that she was born with. Cuddling newborns like May allowed me to recognize the importance of treating the entire person, even in newborns. May’s recovery motivates me to become a doctor treating the patient’s emotional and physical needs and illness. Throughout my experiences, I have grown to see that the best medicine considers all aspects of the patient and treats the patient’s emotional health and physical symptoms. Caring for ill patients and cuddling babies allowed me to observe the impact of these ideals tangibly throughout the entire spectrum of an individual’s life. My experiences have confirmed my desire to become a physician and heal others. As a medical student at California Health Sciences University College of Medicine, I will learn to incorporate the practice of caring for patients by caring for them beyond the symptoms and using these past experiences to incorporate a whole-person approach.

Olivia Rodrigo's GUTS album speaks to the vulnerabilities of adolescence, capturing the essence of self-doubt, the pressure to meet societal expectations, and the complex emotions of growing up. "Pretty Isn't Pretty" is a GUTS album song that is a powerful reflection of the struggles young women face when trying to fit into a world where beauty is often defined by unattainable standards. For me, these lyrics encapsulate the essence and challenges of reconciling who I am with the world's expectations, especially as a young woman living with autism who has often wondered why I wasn't "pretty enough" to abide by society's unrealistic standards of beauty. Growing up, I never quite felt like I measured up. I often compared myself to other women—beautiful, confident, and seemingly at ease with who they were. In the face of this, I struggled to see my worth, feeling I didn't fit in with the conventional ideals of beauty. My experiences, both as a woman and someone with Asperger's Syndrome, made it even harder to feel like I had a place in a world that often feels out of reach. But as I've learned, true beauty isn't about fitting in but embracing who we are, flaws and all. This song has reminded me that feeling inadequate in a world with ever-evolving standards is a shared experience—and one that can be overcome. As a first-generation medical student at California Health Sciences University, I'm determined to use my journey in medicine to advocate for others, particularly those struggling with self-image and mental health. I'm pursuing psychiatry because I believe in the importance of healing the mind and helping people realize that they are more than being "pretty enough" and are valuable for being who they are. As a psychiatrist, I will address the deeper issues embedded in the lyrics of "Pretty Isn't Pretty"—the overwhelming societal pressure that often causes adolescents, especially young women, to feel inadequate or something "wrong" with being who they are. I aim to create a safe environment where patients, particularly young women, can understand that they are unique, that external standards don't measure their value, and that their mental health matters. As a future psychiatrist, I will work to provide mental health support that encourages self-love, resilience, and self-acceptance. Like Olivia Rodrigo's music, which has empowered me to find my voice in a world that sometimes seems overwhelming, I hope to empower my patients to find theirs—teaching them that they are more than "enough," just as they are.