Imagine witnessing your family disappear one by one into the terrors of the Holocaust, all while being forced into slave labor yourself. That was Jack Terry’s story. As the youngest prisoner at the concentration camps in Bavaria, his childhood was bombarded with numerous deaths and sufferings. Although the holocaust was a piece of Terry’s story, this was not his life’s story. He made sure of it. Rejecting the victim label as the “concentration camp survivor,” he diligently thrived through his agony and carved out his own path. Learning how Terry transformed his given narrative from a young boy in the midst of a gruesome homicide into a successful doctor that spread hope among humanity, inspires me to take charge of my own narrative. Everyday, I would head down to my parents’ barber shop located in the streets of Kensington, a neighborhood in Philadelphia infiltrated with drug abuse or as the locals call it, “Zombie Land.” Growing up watching addicts step over a needle-covered ground, I internalized immense shame about where I came from. Watching people struggling with addiction slowly walk through the front door to simply yell at my parents and randomly pull out their knives to threaten us was frightening as a 10 year old worker. Having to break up fights among the customers and call the ambulance because someone overdosed in front of our store again drained me. I was embarrassed of where I came from. Terry’s story allowed me to understand how to make the best out of my story. There was nothing else I could change besides changing my mindset. With this in mind, I grew to love the interactions with customers at the barber shop. Whether I was listening to the same old man getting his weekly trim storytell about his fitness career or entertaining babies with weird flavored lollipops, working taught me to embrace interactions as it will always bring insights to different experiences than my own. Engaging in these talks with new strangers and familiar faces not only broke my original notion, but created a new outlook that takes charge of my story like Jack Terry. Being in customer service at a young age developed my communication skills that acted as a stepping stone towards becoming the youngest student-body president in my school’s history, the president of the Red Cross Club, and NEPA (Northeast Programs and Activities), a club I founded, dedicated towards preparing underclassmen students for college. As a leader, I overcame my introversion and learned to love public speaking. I use my new found voice to help uplift my peers, making sure their voices are heard. Where Jack Terry turned his sufferings into success, I organized numerous fundraisers to gather donations dedicated towards underserved students who are, like I was, excluded in core school memories like our annual trip to the Baltimore Aquarium. I am proud that I was brought into an environment that constantly allowed me to meet new people. Being a young kid in the workforce of an opioid crisis neighborhood drove me to be curious about exploring health issues in communities. I intend to nurture my curiosity during my undergraduate years in order to build a foundation for my future career in public health. Because of my interest in the intersections of health disparities such as smoking and its policy issues, studying health management is my goal. I hope to discover the underlying issues through core principles of bioethics that may potentially explain and in the future reduce the recycling phenomenon of addiction in less fortunate neighborhoods. And for Jack Terry, I thank you.

I have dedicated approximately 476 hours of my life to watching and rewatching episodes of Bob’s Burgers. Unironically mirroring my life, this cartoon revolves around an aloof burger cook, Bob Belcher running a small business with his wife Linda and their kids: Louise, Gene, and Tina. Because they couldn’t afford actual employees, it was their children's sole duty to help at their restaurant. Everyday, I would head down to my parents’ barber shop located in the streets of Kensington, a neighborhood in Philadelphia infiltrated with drug abuse or as the locals call it, “Zombie Land.” Growing up watching addicts step over a needle-covered ground, I internalized immense shame about where I came from. Watching people struggling with addiction slowly walk through the front door to simply yell at my parents or randomly pull out their knives to threaten us was frightening as a 10 year old worker. Having to break up fights among the customers and call the ambulance because someone overdosed in front of our store again drained me. I was embarrassed of where I came from. My father always reminded me to make the most of what I had, but as an envious kid, I thought, what did I have? Watching these kids transform their given narrative from young workers in a poor family to goofy kids having fun inspired me to be grateful for my own story. Each episode airing allowed me to understand what my dad meant by making the best out of my narrative. There was nothing else I could change besides changing my attitude. I grew to love the interactions with customers at the barber shop. Whether I was listening to the same old man getting his weekly trim story-tell about his fitness career or entertaining babies with weird flavored lollipops, working taught me to embrace interactions as it will always bring insights to different experiences than my own. Engaging in these talks with new strangers and familiar faces not only broke my shell, but created a new version of me that takes charge of my story like the Belcher children. Being in customer service at a young age developed my communication skills that acted as a stepping stone towards becoming the youngest student-body president in my school’s history, the president of the Red Cross Club, and NEPA (Northeast Programs and Activities), a club I founded, dedicated towards preparing underclassmen students for college. As a leader, I overcame my introversion and learned to love public speaking. I use my new found voice to help uplift my peers, making sure their voices are heard. Where the Belcher children made nothing into something with old meat shaped into Godzilla, I organized numerous fundraisers to gather donations dedicated towards underserved students who are, like I was, excluded in core school memories like our annual trip to the Baltimore Aquarium. I am proud that I was brought into an environment that constantly allowed me to meet new people. Being a 10 year old in the workforce of an opioid crisis neighborhood drove me to be curious about exploring health issues in communities. I intend to nurture my curiosity during my undergraduate years in order to build a foundation for my future career in public health. Because of my interest in the intersections of health disparities such as smoking and its policy issues, studying health management is my goal. I hope to discover the underlying issues through core principles of bioethics that may potentially explain the recycling phenomenon of addiction in less fortunate neighborhoods and further reduce it in the future.

I have dedicated approximately 476 hours of my life to Bob’s Burgers, the most mesmerizing, yet humorous cartoon. I spend countless hours rewatching episodes, distracting myself from my endless routine: waking up, going to school, and coming to my parents’ barber shop since first grade. I would sweep the bundles of hair on the floor, meticulously clean the clippers, and make sure each customer was satisfied with their fresh haircut. I wanted to be like everyone else in my class, joining a baking club or hanging out with friends after school. Instead, my parents forced me to go work at their store because we simply couldn’t afford to hire actual employees as extra help, nonetheless, keep rice on the dinner table. Because the barber shop was located in Kensington, a crime-ridden neighborhood, I grew up in this area watching addicts hunching their curved spines on needle-covered grounds. I became immensely ashamed of my background. I would lie to my classmates, saying that I was out with my fun aunt to simply avoid telling the truth about what I had to do to support my family. My dad always reminded me to make the most of what I had, but as an ungrateful kid, I thought, what did I have? One night, FOX channel suddenly aired the show Bob’s Burgers. The intro song hooked me from the start with its jangly ukulele tune and random bark. The cartoon revolves around an aloof burger cook, Bob, who runs an unpopular, small business alongside his wife, Linda, where their 3 kids, Louise, Gene, and Tina, help out at the restaurant every day. I initially couldn’t understand why they lived in bliss while their childhood was significantly filled with work, but as each episode aired, I realized it was because they turn the restaurant into a summer camp and shape old meat as Godzilla. Those kids switch the narrative they were given into an adventurous movie. Watching my life through Bob’s kids made me understand what my dad meant by making the best out of our situations, because what can I do to change it besides changing my attitude? Instead of living the rest of my life sulking about unchangeable circumstances, I stopped worrying as much. It was not until high school, that I finally built up this new confidence to branch out to new friends. Life quickly adapted to my pace because I coincidentally made bonds with classmates who also happen to help at their family’s business. I became a part of the student council, a board member of the Red Cross, and a volunteer at MANNA, a nonprofit helping those with health issues. Soon, I became the youngest president of my school. Although my schedule as a young adult is busier than my 8-year-old self, I still squeeze in time to help at my parents’ shop every week. Continuing to this day, I am my school’s public speaker, hosting events with pride in my background. I make sure my classmates are heard in their dark times and relate to those who did not have the privilege of comfortable money to play with. In the future, I plan on working as a pediatrician at a dental clinic that specializes in helping decrease dental costs for low-income families. This way, my interest in STEM, specifically chemistry, and my need to help other kids not be ashamed of their situations, like I was as a young child. As I grow older, I am determined to help as many kids avoid the path of self-destruction and be sure to have absolute pride in their backgrounds.