I always had the inability to be aware. Even as a child, when my peers would throw snarky comments and or innuendos at me my only response would be that of a guileless smile and of an absent-minded blink. However, throughout the years I became aware of the strong cultural distinction between me and my classmates. This “Eureka!” moment occurred to me in my High School class of Child Psychology, where we had to query our mothers about their experience in labor. Dilation, contraction, delivery, and eventual aftercare would be the appropriate guess to what roughly happens on this momentous occasion, but my mother gave birth to me in 2004, in my home country – Kazakhstan. The inevitable dissolution of the Soviet Union was later replaced with a corrupted government controlled by the Russian mafia. I could only imagine the hopelessness of my mother and father’s generation, for things like education were bought rather than pursued. From that point forward in history, the healthcare system in the former USSR territory remained relatively poor. After my mother’s delivery of her first child, me, she vowed to not have any more children because of the vile disservice and dishonesty of the obstetricians. The severe negligence of the doctors led to complications of my birth and even after this harrowing escape from near-death, my parents were led to believe by the professionals that I had an abundance of other congenital illnesses - which in fact, were all factitious. What was rather missed by the numerous doctors was that my placenta that provided me oxygen and sustenance was not fully removed from my mother’s womb -- the retained state of what formerly supported me, developed into a malignant infection. I have only perceived this disheartening obstacle as a foreshadowing to my fierce passion for health equity. Following two years later, when I was speeding through my developmental milestones, my father won a green card to the United States in a Diversity Visa Lottery. Valiantly my family moved, the three of us at the time, to this foreign land and have been living here for 15 years. A long time afterwards, my mother gifted me my two younger sisters, who both were born in Seattle, and both delivered successfully by the same OB/GYN -- a Russian-born American doctor who was a graduate at the UW. A university that I will also be attending this Autumn (2022), studying health. To me, she always represented what being the perfect doctor was – passionate, diligent but most importantly knowledgeable. Everything, in which the healthcare professionals in Kazakhstan lacked. Many of my relatives who currently reside in my home country still fear the doctors who operate in these institutions – they will walk around with rotten teeth for the rest of their lives and bear the gut-wrenching pain rather than be traumatized once more. Due to experiencing the duplicity of the Russian healthcare system from the very second I was born, my thirst for advocating health equity and mastery never subsided. Furthermore, it only fueled my motivation to pursue a higher education to help those in need, especially in more underdeveloped countries like that of my home. As Prometheus was the light-bearer for humanity, my culture illuminated the importance of humanity within myself. I understood once and for all, that only knowledge can burn down the bridges of ignorance and cozenage. My background shaped the many morals that I live by today, such as how education reflects the heart and soul of society. Without the cultivation of authentic curiosity and eventual academic guidance, our future will bleakly deteriorate.