I sit in the maroon-colored office, looking at the array of retainers and spacers on the cream-colored models of teeth. As I think back to how I begged my parents for braces—something that most pre-teenagers despise—the giddiness in my body catches up to me, and I sway back and forth in my chair. I squint my eyes to peer into the glass separating the front desk, but all I can see is a blue basin. Trying to push away the thought of my sweaty palms, I think back to the last time I saw a blue basin. It was in the run-down hospital in Xi’an, China, where I visited my grandmother. The blue basin, which contrasted with the dull tones of the hospital room, sat on my grandmother’s bedside stand. My grandmother’s scratchy pillowcase with red characters rested limply, almost covering a quarter-sized hole in the wall. I remembered that back in the United States, even the pediatric rooms had immensely more medical equipment than the hospital room my grandmother lived in. So many seemingly normal things were not normal for the majority of China. I realized that when I went home, unlike my grandmother, I would be able to have what I assumed to be normal health check-ups. I wish I could bring my healthcare to her. The orthodontist walks into the room with a booming greeting that snaps me out of my thoughts. He pulls out a folder of my teeth scans, and I stare at it. I’m unable to grasp that I am looking at the skeletal structure of my teeth. Even though I have a whole folder of photos I took of my own teeth in my phone, seeing an x-ray opens up a whole set of questions, including why the roots are so long. From that day on, I made note of every upcoming orthodontist appointment the day it was scheduled. I took photos on my phone with the flash on to track the progress of my teeth. I even watched videos of how braces are tightened. The same excitement radiated within me before each appointment. During my examinations, I keenly watched as the drawers of an assortment of rubber bands and wires opened. My fascination led me to ask the nurses every possible question—I even picked up some jargon. Whenever I saw the blue basin sitting next to me in the examination room, I thought back to my grandmother. She was receiving life-sustaining healthcare in a practically empty hospital while I was getting braces, in an examination room filled with supplies and tools. I thought back to my hard-working parents, who grew up in harsh environments and were only given a bag of rice per month to eat. I was reminded of the overwhelming privilege I have here to be able to fix the alignment of my teeth. Even more than appreciating the beauty of orthodontia, I appreciated every family member whose hard work allowed me to get braces. I recognized my privilege. My interest in orthodontia and love for helping people clicked in place: I want to be an orthodontist. I use this lack of healthcare that my parents, grandparents, and others receive as motivation to work harder. I want to be the change in oral healthcare. Good oral healthcare, as I have learned, is an overlooked aspect of many communities. I will strive to be an orthodontist who helps out all people regardless of circumstance and who reaches out to make oral healthcare not a privilege but a right.