My father nicknamed me a gypsy. This is simply because I am never home. Being a two sport varsity athlete, a high school senior on track to graduating with an associates degree, and a worker at a local pet resort, home is often time for the last place I am. This is not to say I don’t love my house or my family, I just happen to love showing what I am capable of outside of my house. I learned my love for pediatrics during my high school job.Working with animals invites you into a very exclusive club. There are requirements and certain quirks you have to understand in order to be welcomed in. For over a year, I have devoted my free time to these little creatures that we call dogs. Slowly but surely I have learned to understand the species, just as I have learned to understand any other thing of life. Working with animals demands unwavering patience and a very detailed eye. Like humans, dogs have quirks. Some whine, some twirl, and some even smile, but each attribute creates their own unique personality. Similar to children, what they need and want are not always obvious, and it certainly is not universally expressed. While one dog's whine means their hurt, another dog may simply be singing. It's a waltz between us and the animals. Learning and memorizing each part of the dance is what enables us to successfully satisfy their needs, while gaining their trust. This job has enticed me to pursue medicine, particularly within children. Advocating for those whose voices are not always clearly understood is something I could see myself joyfully succeeding in. Finding my love for cardiology came from a different type of experience. My first inclination to cardiology stemmed from a book. I read my freshman year book called open heart by Stephen Westaby. I read his book in the time of my life when I thought I wanted to be a surgeon. He recalls the late nights and incredible experiences. He had worked as a cardiothoracic surgeon. Well, his long experience didn’t exactly entice me what he recalled about the heart stuck with me. It wasn’t until the summer of my junior year that I remembered why the heart was so fascinating. The heart is one organ that simply just shuts down. My father died of unexpected heart failure right before my junior year. No warnings and no goodbyes welcomed me into the hardest year of my life. In August, I plan on moving to Austin and attending the University of Texas at Austin to obtain a biology degree. My end goal is becoming a pediatric cardiologist. Pursuing a dream that involves medicine also involves very little time at home. There are countless nights that will be spent at libraries studying. There will be days spent at hospitals, shadowing other physicians. Most days will be at school in front of professors and peers that are all learning what you are. My nickname truly illustrates my compatibility with medicine. With my degree I hope to use my experiences both positive and negative to prevent any family going through loss like I experienced. I believe that every person deserves a chance to say goodbye. For someone like me who leaves so often and is never at one place for too long, I believe this is vital. Well my dad might not be with me, my nickname sure will live on in his memory, and hopefully allow others to build more lasting memories.

I have always been accustomed to applause. It started from a young age, dancing on a stage with one arm in a bright pink cast. I looked out into the audience and envisioned myself as a superstar, destined for greatness. This continued into my adolescent and pre- teen years, working year round to prepare for just four nights of performing in front of large audiences. The Nutcracker was the rave in my town, everyone and their mother made sure to attend the productions in December. I craved the warm stage lights and the pain from dancing on my toes, for all it ended up with a large applause. When I entered middle school, I found there were other instances to find the satisfaction of applause. It started simple, joining volleyball and track, simple sports that 12 year old children forced their parents to attend. As I grew older, I realized I loved the adrenaline of performing at high levels in front of audiences. Supporters and critics alike, their affinity meant little to me, just the noise that came from it. I was 16 when I attended my first volleyball tournament in Austin. The convention center oozed of applause, laughter, cheering, and an overall sense of happiness. Competition was not at the forefront of the building, togetherness was. It was here when I recognized that my true inclination to sports was not the noise that rifled my adrenaline, instead it was the atmosphere that felt like family. On the other hand, school felt cold and isolating. It was the opposite of everything sports offered, yet I excelled in it. I decorated it with sports and teams that allowed me to escape its rigid atmosphere. I travelled and trained with the varsity volleyball and track teams so much that I looked forward to attending school. Balancing school with sports has never been a burden to me. Sports have brought me friendships that people dream of and happiness I only imagined. Sure, college classes and all day track tournaments do not exactly coincide with one another, but it never mattered to me. Being a student athlete does not mean that you are any less of a person. Being a student athlete means that you are disciplined enough to succeed in both academics and athletics without falling short in either one. I am personally a student athlete who is a valedictorian at my school. At the same time, I am a varsity track captain. My biggest discovery being a student athlete is that sacrifice is what you make of it. I never sacrificed good grades or athletic performance because it is what I wanted. Instead I sacrificed the right to complain and any sense of laziness I may have had. Instead of losing what made me, me, I gave up negative aspects of myself that hindered my growth instead of bolstering it. Being a student athlete is learning what makes you you, and holding onto that, no matter how tired, unmotivated, or emotional you are.

Working with animals invites you into a very exclusive club. There are requirements and certain quirks you have to understand in order to be welcomed in. My sophomore year I would have considered this a silly thought, animals are easy, right? Wrong. For over a year, I have devoted my free time to these little creatures that we call dogs. Slowly but surely I have learned to understand the species, just as I have learned to understand any other thing of life. Working with animals demands unwavering patience and a very detailed eye. Unlike working retail or working in food service, there is a level of responsibility and critical thinking that you must recognize, and fast. Dogs cannot speak in a language we understand, instead we learn through their actions and reactions. Like humans, dogs have quirks. Some whine, some twirl, and some even smile, but each attribute creates their own unique personality. Similar to children, what they need and want are not always obvious, and it certainly is not universally expressed. While one dog's whine means their hurt, another dog may simply be singing. It's a waltz between us and the animals. Learning and memorizing each part of the dance is what enables us to successfully satisfy their needs, while gaining their trust. The customers at this job have introduced me to the very precarious walk that will be working with patients who cannot always express their needs. This job has enticed me to pursue medicine, particularly within children. Advocating for those whose voices are not always clearly understood is something I could see myself joyfully succeeding in. At Barkaritaville, we emphasize the feeling of family and I hope to introduce this idea into any other room I step into, because voices are not always the full story. I looked to continue advocating for my patients in the future. I hope to obtain my medical assistance license by the end of the year and begin working in hospitals while also balancing attending college. My angle is to end up completing a residency in internal medicine and ultimately become a pediatrician. While working with I have learned that not everyone has a voice, but everyone has a story. With my degree, I want to build my career based off the foundation of making sure everyone is heard and understood, even if it takes learning a different language. Medicine is a field where patients are not binary, everyone is different. My experience with animals will help me succeed overall.

My introduction to medicine stemmed from a Disney Channel television show, "Doc McStuffins" As a young girl, I would sit in my pink night gown and watch the character listen, comfort, and heal her patients. It was then, within an animated series, that I first saw that medicine was more than about lending a helping hand, but also an open ear and loving heart. As I grew older, I continued to chase opportunities that taught me something deeper than what lies on the surface. My freshman year, after reading "Open Heart" by Stephen Westaby, I discovered a deep fascination with the heart. On paper it is the strongest and most resilient muscle, however, through the detailed encounters depicted in Westaby's writing, I learnt of the fragile delicacies required to work with the beast. It is these deceptions and room for discovery that intrigue me into medicine and it paints a picture of who I hope to become. I looked to find a way to apply this love with medicine in a practical way. Working with animals invites you into a very exclusive club. There are requirements and certain quirks you have to understand in order to be welcomed in. My sophomore year I would have considered this a silly thought, animals are easy, right? Wrong. For over a year, I have devoted my free time to these little creatures that we call dogs. Slowly but surely I have learned to understand the species, just as I have learned to understand any other thing of life. Working with animals demands unwavering patience and a very detailed eye. Unlike working retail or working in food service, there is a level of responsibility and critical thinking that you must recognize, and fast. Dogs cannot speak in a language we understand, instead we learn through their actions and reactions. Like humans, dogs have quirks. Some whine, some twirl, and some even smile, but each attribute creates their own unique personality. Similar to children, what they need and want are not always obvious, and it certainly is not universally expressed. While one dog's whine means their hurt, another dog may simply be singing. It's a waltz between us and the animals. Learning and memorizing each part of the dance is what enables us to successfully satisfy their needs, while gaining their trust. The customers at this job have introduced me to the very precarious walk that will be working with patients who cannot always express their needs. This job has enticed me to pursue medicine, particularly within children. Advocating for those whose voices are not always clearly understood is something I could see myself joyfully succeeding in. At Barkaritaville, we emphasize the feeling of family and I hope to introduce this idea into any other room I step into, because voices are not always the full story.