My name is Dolores Marquez, and I am a first-generation college student, single mother, and cardiac sonography student working toward a future in echocardiography. My journey has been shaped by resilience, compassion, and a deep desire to serve others. I recently left an abusive relationship, which forced me to leave my home and face homelessness with my child. Despite the instability and emotional toll, I’ve maintained straight A’s in school and remained committed to my education. I’ve also lived with chronic PTSD and have struggled with depression for much of my life—challenges that don’t always show on the outside but have deeply impacted how I move through the world. These experiences have not only tested my strength but also deepened my empathy and understanding of how trauma affects the body and spirit. I’ve learned to advocate for myself and others, to find dignity in survival, and to keep moving forward even when the path is uncertain. My passion for human health and wellness stems from these lived experiences. I believe that healing is not just about treating symptoms—it’s about seeing the whole person. The heart, both as an organ and a symbol, represents resilience, and I want to be the kind of healthcare provider who honors that. My background in the wireless industry, where I led teams and supported diverse communities, taught me how to listen, lead, and communicate with care. Now, I’m channeling those skills into a field where compassion and precision go hand in hand. To me, empathy means listening beyond words. It’s the ability to feel with someone—not just for them—and to respond with compassion, respect, and understanding. In healthcare, empathy is essential. It transforms a clinical interaction into a moment of healing. As a future cardiac sonographer, I’ll be working with patients who may be scared, vulnerable, or in pain. My role isn’t just to capture images—it’s to create trust. I want my patients to feel seen, heard, and safe. That starts with empathy: asking how they’re doing, noticing body language, and honoring their dignity no matter their background. I’ve experienced what it’s like to feel invisible in systems meant to help, and I know how powerful it is when someone takes the time to listen and support without judgment. That’s the kind of provider I want to be—the one who notices the quiet signs of distress and responds with kindness, not just protocol. To ensure my work is human-centered, I’ll prioritize communication, cultural sensitivity, and trauma-informed care. I’ll ask questions instead of making assumptions, and I’ll advocate for patients who may not know how to speak up. I’ve already seen how small gestures—like explaining a procedure clearly or offering a warm blanket—can ease anxiety and build trust. These moments remind patients they’re not just numbers on a chart but human beings deserving of respect. I want to carry that mindset into every exam room I enter. Ultimately, empathy is the heartbeat of healthcare. In cardiac sonography, I’ll be working with one of the body’s most vital organs—but I’ll never forget that the heart is also a symbol of emotion, resilience, and life. I want my work to reflect that truth.