"Sana, sana colita de rana" translated as "Heal, heal, little frog's tail" is a saying commonly spoken to children in Latine communities when they have fallen or injured themselves. Hearing my mother soothe me with this light-hearted saying brightened my day after I would scrape my knee from running around the yard. The saying not only connects my family but the Latine culture as a whole, but it also reminds me that my community is full of compassionate healers. I come from a long line of medicine women who make me proud to be Mexican-American, Navajo, and Mescalero Apache. "Sana, sana" is one of many parts of my culture that represent a love of family and healing. Our medicine practices span far past solely physical health. It is holistic and aims to bring balance between the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. From herbs to ceremonies to community support, our medicine is robust and rooted in connection. Although my community is deeply connected with wellness and has valuable knowledge on healing, there are few of us in healthcare, we often face medical discrimination, and our knowledge is typically cast aside. To combat this, I plan to become a surgeon and create Community Wellness Centers in underserved communities. These facilities will serve as hospitals, mental health clinics, and cultural centers. They can also help revive the dwindling traditional healing practices that my Latine and Native family have used for generations. Bridging culture and biomedicine can both uplift overall physical health and cultural healing. By going into the medical field and opening these Community Wellness Centers, I hope to provide healing and comfort to my underserved communities as well as highlight the importance of Indigenous knowledge. I want to delve deeply into my cultures' healing practices and Western biomedicine. When I was in the seventh grade, I studied the heart in-depth for the first time. As I read about the aorta and diagramed the heart's chambers, I became fascinated with the human body's functions and capabilities. I remember sitting next to my dad watching videos of surgeons correcting infants' congenital heart disease, my face glowing from the light of the computer screen and intrigue alike. Seeing professionals perform life-saving surgeries on those children ignited a sense of awe within me. At that moment, I decided that I would become a pediatric cardiothoracic surgeon to give children the chance to live full, healthy lives. I have many plans for my future in medicine, and where I end up specifically may change. I know wherever my path takes me, I will carry my cultural knowledge and passion for healing with me.

"Sana, sana colita de rana" translated as "Heal, heal, little frog's tail" is a saying commonly spoken to children in Latine communities when they have fallen or injured themselves. Hearing my mother soothe me with this light-hearted saying brightened my day after I would scrape my knee from running around the yard. The saying not only connects my family but the Latine culture as a whole, but it also reminds me that my community is full of compassionate healers. I come from a long line of medicine women who make me proud to be Mexican-American, Navajo, and Mescalero Apache. "Sana, sana" is one of many parts of my culture that represent a love of family and healing. Although my community is deeply connected with wellness and has valuable knowledge on healing, there are few of us in healthcare, we often face medical discrimination, and our knowledge is typically cast aside. To combat this, I plan to become a surgeon and create Community Wellness Centers in underserved communities. These facilities will serve as hospitals, mental health clinics, and cultural centers. They can also help revive the dwindling traditional healing practices that my Latine and Native family have used for generations. Bridging culture and biomedicine can both uplift overall physical health and cultural healing. By going into the medical field and opening these Community Wellness Centers, I hope to provide healing and comfort to my underserved communities. I want to delve deeply into my cultures' healing practices and Western biomedicine. When I was in the seventh grade, I studied the heart in-depth for the first time. As I read about the aorta and diagramed the heart's chambers, I became fascinated with the human body's functions and capabilities. I remember sitting next to my dad watching videos of surgeons correcting infants' congenital heart disease, my face glowing from the light of the computer screen and intrigue alike. Seeing professionals perform life-saving surgeries on those children ignited a sense of awe within me. At that moment, I decided that I would become a pediatric cardiothoracic surgeon to give children the chance to live full, healthy lives. Thank you for this opportunity to apply to this scholarship and for your time in reading my essay.

"Sana, sana colita de rana" translated as "Heal, heal, little frog's tail" is a saying commonly spoken to children in Latine communities when they have fallen or injured themselves. Hearing my mother soothe me with this light-hearted saying brightened my day after I would scrape my knee from running around the yard. The saying not only connects my family but the Latine culture as a whole. It reminds me that my community is full of compassionate healers. I come from a long line of medicine women who make me proud to be Mexican-American, Navajo, and Mescalero Apache. They have left me a legacy of compassionate healing and valuable cultural knowledge. Their legacy encompasses the ideals, accomplishments, and impacts of my ancestors. It embodies both the triumphs and tragedies my people have faced. "Sana, sana" is one of many parts of my culture’s legacy that represent a love of family and healing. Although my community is deeply connected with wellness and has valuable knowledge on healing, there are few of us in healthcare, we often face medical discrimination, and our knowledge is typically cast aside. While I always seek to see the good in things, it is apparent that my people and I have inherited a legacy of adversity along with a legacy of strength. My Latine and Native American communities are buckling under the constraint of limited accessible healthcare and the resources they need to lead healthy lives. In my home Los Angeles, our Latine communities are in the midst of food deserts. We are disproportionately affected by obesity and diabetes, which is due to the scarcity of affordable healthy food in our communities. Throughout the Native reservations, clean water, hospitals, and other necessities are rare commodities. These forms of oppression are deeply rooted into our communities for reasons out of our control. I refuse to let a legacy of sorrow continue to be passed down to my children and their children. To combat this, I plan to become a surgeon and create Community Wellness Centers in underserved communities. These facilities will serve as hospitals, mental health clinics, and cultural centers. They can also help revive the dwindling traditional healing practices that my Latine and Native family have used for generations. Bridging culture and biomedicine can both uplift overall physical health and cultural healing. We will promote our cultural legacy as we heal our communities. By going into the medical field and opening these Community Wellness Centers, I hope to provide healing and comfort to my underserved communities. I want to delve deeply into my cultures' healing practices and Western biomedicine. When I was in the seventh grade, I studied the heart in-depth for the first time. As I read about the aorta and diagramed the heart's chambers, I became fascinated with the human body's functions and capabilities. I remember sitting next to my dad watching videos of surgeons correcting infants' congenital heart disease, my face glowing from the light of the computer screen and intrigue alike. Seeing professionals perform life-saving surgeries on those children ignited a sense of awe within me. At that moment, I decided that I would become a pediatric cardiothoracic surgeon to give children the chance to live full, healthy lives.