A child’s ability to gauge true, honest, fervent love is nearly transcendent. In my formative years I felt just that, a radiance of love, passion, and happiness from a new mother enjoying the first years of her son’s life. However, as my scope of the world became wider I began noticing a shift in my mother’s spirit. For the next five years of my life I had come to learn a new woman who, unbeknownst to my adolescent understanding, was suffering from severe depression and anxiety. In August 2005, just after my 4th birthday, my mother witnessed my grandmother’s death from a decade-long battle with breast cancer. A year later, her sister Tina also passed away at the age of 35 after a 9 year long battle with breast cancer. At this point I was seven years old and since then I have not felt a more devastating turn of emotions than I felt from my mother that day. Having to carry the burden of helplessly watching both of her best friends slowly die over a combined 11 years while raising two young children sent my mother into a state of deep depression. Watching the emotional breakdown of a woman who I saw as indestructible induced my very first inclination towards helping others; I wanted to “fix my mommy’s heart”. My scientific curiosity was born in an ice-cold operating room at the UCSF Benioff’s Children's Hospital as I laid face up nervously preparing for heart surgery. The bright lights and wide eyes were no longer on me because of my pretty jump-shot or quick feet, instead, I was on the receiving end of a different kind of attention. Fifteen medical students crowded at the door of my ICU-room, kind of attention. “Honestly, I am surprised you are alive right now” kind of attention. A young multi-sport athlete who’d been having weekly episodes of ventricular tachycardia from as early as he could remember, kind of attention. I was cloaked in a veil of apprehension and timidity until the evening before my surgery. The surgeon, a tall man with a cascade of dark hair framing his sharp facial features, not only put my anxiety to rest but also planted a seed of curiosity in my mind as he gracefully explained how he intended to “fix my heart”. The day I left the hospital, I told myself I’d leave my positive impact on the world through science and medicine, and I haven’t stopped striving for that since. Although my medical experience was rather positive, I’m aware that the current “one size fits all” approach to medicine excludes vital variables that are specific to racially diverse backgrounds. This perpetuates distrust in medical science and widens the gap between today’s health standards and the individuals of underrepresented communities. To help close this gap, I aim to become a surgeon to increase diversity in the field and follow the passion that was instilled in me as a young boy. My 2,000+ hours of neuroscience research, performed here in the states and overseas, helped develop a meticulous attention to detail which grew my capacity for critical thinking, ultimately aiding me as a scientist and a man. On the other hand, surgical shadowing has put me less than a foot away from open chest cavities, on-looking active heart surgeries. These experiences have instilled a sense of grit, determination, and belief that I can and will succeed on my journey toward being a surgeon.