I wish I could write an essay about some obscure, really artsy, meaningful film that would illuminate the depth of my character and highlight my life aspirations. Instead, only one movie reigns supreme as my all-time favorite. It is the one I keep coming back to for the past eight years when I feel happy, sad, tired, frazzled, anxious or just bored. It is the one that makes me forget temporarily what century it is and what is going on in the world at the moment. It is the ship of dreams that lies two miles below the surface of the ocean that still stirs my imagination--Titanic. If anyone says they do not like the movie Titanic--well, I don't see how we could be close friends. Yes, I know it may be cheesy at times, and it is full of teenage angst and drama, but I find it immensely entertaining and, like a sonar, it resonates within my soul with the longing for a fairy tale romance, simpler times, and an era long gone. I hope when I am an old wrinkled lady, looking back at my life, like the pictures on Rose's table, I will have traveled a journey full of adventure, taken the risks, lived fiercely, and loved wholeheartedly. Isn't that what a great movie should do?

Those who know me at all, know I love food. Not in a gluttonous sort of way, but with more of an appreciative, revering attitude than most. Good food is the way to my heart, and with an immigrant mother who has cooked my family delicious and nutritious meals my whole life, I have a deep appreciation for food of all cultures. The menu for this week features: Mediterranean stuffed zucchini boats, Indian chicken tikka masala curry, Louisiana shrimp and grits, and last, but not least, this week’s headliner--Russian borscht. These dishes are just a sample of the menu my mom prepares each week for our family. Successful in her full-time career, taking care of three children, and cooking homemade meals--my mom truly is superwoman. Growing up in the Soviet Union with food shortages, creative cooking was a life skill she mastered early. My dad, on the other hand, born in Tanzania, growing up in Oman, of an affluent Goan (Portuguese Indian) family, barely knew how to boil an egg when he met my mom. Being so far from their home countries in their early years together at the University of Idaho, my mom learned how to cook Indian food from his friends. I think he married my mom because of her cooking, but he would never admit it. Being a child of immigrants has given me the opportunity to travel all over the world. I love the feeling of being out of my comfort zone in a different culture, as well as going back to my parents’ home countries to appreciate my own. Despite the many unique experiences I have had on my world expeditions, hands down, the food is always my favorite part. Each country brings its own culinary adventures for me to explore (and for my mom to collect new recipes to experiment with later.) If you asked me about my favorite part of vacationing in Goa, India, I would tell you it is a piece of buttered naan fresh out of tandoori oven dipped into my grandmother’s shark curry. Red Square in Moscow? An appetizer of rabbit’s tongue in mushroom sauce and a huge blin (crepe pancake) with Nutella for dessert. Panama Canal? A Peruvian restaurant serving 25 varieties of ceviche. Sydney Opera house? A sushi burrito at a street vendor for $5. Remembering where I tasted the food and who I was with is what makes it so special and memorable. I recently realized that all these experiences have made me the opposite of xenophobic. When I meet people from all over the world, I imagine them at their family dinner table and I immediately feel a connection. With dreams of becoming a physician with a focus on nutrition, I feel like I can truly make a difference in the world helping people get healthy by teaching them how to nurture their bodies with good food. While my heritage gifted me the opportunity to appreciate foods from places all over the world, I would not be the foodie I am today without growing up in Louisiana—a culinary paradise. It is a true melting gumbo pot of culture and heritage. From wolfing down red beans and rice to sucking all the juice out of freshly boiled crawfish, Louisiana has proven that good food can truly bring people of all backgrounds together. For my family, good food brings us together at the dinner table every night. Bon Appetit!

My mother is a yogini and has been practicing for decades. She brought my siblings and me to some classes ever since we were toddlers, but these were few and just for fun. As a teenager, I was a multi-sport athlete: volleyball, track and field, running, etc. I considered myself athletic and enjoyed working out and training, however, yoga was not one of the activities that I particularly enjoyed. It was at times too slow, measured, and repetitive, and the breathing cues had me all confused. My mother would 'drag' me to yoga when I needed a recovery day or a stretch day. Then, one day, about a year ago, it just clicked. I got it. It might have had to do with the fact that the pandemic shut down all other activities and induced so much anxiety in the world that yoga suddenly became an outlet for both exercise and stress reduction. The breathing suddenly made all the sense to me. The feeling of euphoria and calmness that takes over in savasana. The sense of peace that remains long after I left the class. As I get ready to graduate from high school and move to college in the fall, I know I will carry yoga with me. I do not yet know where I will practice in my new environment, but practice I will. Going through teacher training over the summer would help me understand my practice on a much higher level. I interned with an orthopedic surgeon over the past year, and she always says that if everyone did yoga, she would be out of business. As a future physician myself, yoga helped me understand the intrinsic connection between mind and body. Wellness starts within and blossoms through a deeper understanding of our bodies and the choices we make every day with food, movement, attitude, and mindset. That is exactly what yoga teaches us and that is what I hope to convey to myself, my patients and my yoga students.

Those who know me, not even very well, know I love food. I don’t view eating good food in a gluttonous sort of way, but as more of an appreciative, savory action. Nothing compares to the first bite, where every flavor captivates your taste buds, creating a magical, warm feeling inside of your soul. Good food is the way to my heart, and with an immigrant mother who has cooked my family delicious and nutritious meals my whole life, I have a deep appreciation for food of all cultures. The menu for this week features: stuffed zucchini boats, chicken curry, shrimp and grits, and last but not least, this week’s specialty: borscht. These dishes are just a few of the meals my mom prepares each week for our family. From working a full time job, taking care of three children, and cooking homemade meals, my mom truly is superwoman. As a Russian immigrant, he grew up learning how to cook in order to provide for herself and her family. My dad on the other hand, coming from India, barely knew how to cook pasta when he and my mom met. Being so far from their home countries in their early years together, my mom learned how to cook Indian food, which my dad says tastes more authentic than the food in India itself. I still think he married my mom because of her cooking, but he refuses to agree with me. As a mixed race child of two immigrants, the biggest conflict I faced growing up was not knowing where exactly I belonged. Am I Russian? Am I Indian? Am I Louisianian? Am I just a plain old melting pot-type of an American? My experience at home was a world apart from the experience of my regular American classmates. They could never relate and appreciate the weird foods I brought for lunch and the authentic travel experiences that I have had since early childhood. They don't get the jokes about Indians and Russians that my parents crack at each other, nor were they exposed to the bedtime stories I grew up with. When I went home, and customarily removed my shoes at the door, it was like I entered into a parallel universe. I think it bothered me at some point in early childhood, but then I quickly realized that my peers were missing out on a lot more experiences. I am pretty sure it happened when I tasted my first hamburger in Pre-school at 5 years of age and decided that it was not worth the hype. Being a child of immigrants has given me the opportunity to travel all over the world. From St. Basil’s Cathedral in Moscow to the Sydney Opera House and cheering on my aunt in the 2012 London Olympics, I love getting to learn and experience different cultures, as well as going back to my parents’ home countries to appreciate my own. Despite the many unique adventures I have had on my world expeditions, hands down, the food is my favorite part. Each country brings its own type of cuisine for me to try ( and for my mom to cook). If you ask me to recall what historical monument my family and I visited on a trip, I could not tell you. But if you asked me what I ate for lunch at this restaurant while vacationing in Goa in 2009, I could give you the entire rundown. Remembering where I tasted the food is just as important as tasting the food in the first place, it is a holistic, fulfilling experience rather than something to just eat and fill your body with. While my heritage is what allowed me the opportunity to appreciate foods from places all over the world, I would not be the foodie I am today without growing up in Louisiana. Louisiana is it’s own country in terms of food. From slurping up a bowl duck gumbo to sucking all the juice out of freshly boiled crawfish, Louisiana food has proved that good food can truly bring people of all backgrounds together. While I may be culturally confused, I know one thing for sure: for my family, good food brings us together at the dinner table every night.

Those who know me, not even very well, know I love food. I don’t view eating good food in a gluttonous sort of way, but as more of an appreciative, savory action. Nothing compares to the first bite, where every flavor captivates your taste buds, creating a magical, warm feeling inside of your soul. Good food is the way to my heart, and with an immigrant mother who has cooked my family delicious and nutritious meals my whole life, I have a deep appreciation for food of all cultures. The menu for this week features: stuffed zucchini boats, chicken curry, shrimp and grits, and last but not least, this week’s specialty: borscht. These dishes are just a few of the meals my mom prepares each week for our family. From working a full time job, taking care of three children, and cooking homemade meals, my mom truly is superwoman. As a Russian immigrant, he grew up learning how to cook in order to provide for herself and her family. My dad on the other hand, coming from India, barely knew how to cook pasta when he and my mom met. Being so far from their home countries in their early years together, my mom learned how to cook Indian food, which my dad says tastes more authentic than the food in India itself. I still think he married my mom because of her cooking, but he refuses to agree with me. As a mixed race child of two immigrants, the biggest conflict I faced growing up was not knowing where exactly I belonged. Am I Russian? Am I Indian? Am I Louisianian? Am I just a plain old melting pot-type of an American? My experience at home was a world apart from the experience of my regular American classmates. They could never relate and appreciate the weird foods I brought for lunch and the authentic travel experiences that I have had since early childhood. They don't get the jokes about Indians and Russians that my parents crack at each other, nor were they exposed to the bedtime stories I grew up with. When I went home, and customarily removed my shoes at the door, it was like I entered into a parallel universe. I think it bothered me at some point in early childhood, but then I quickly realized that my peers were missing out on a lot more experiences. I am pretty sure it happened when I tasted my first hamburger in Pre-school at 5 years of age and decided that it was not worth the hype. Being a child of immigrants has given me the opportunity to travel all over the world. From St. Basil’s Cathedral in Moscow to the Sydney Opera House and cheering on my aunt in the 2012 London Olympics, I love getting to learn and experience different cultures, as well as going back to my parents’ home countries to appreciate my own. Despite the many unique adventures I have had on my world expeditions, hands down, the food is my favorite part. Each country brings its own type of cuisine for me to try ( and for my mom to cook). If you ask me to recall what historical monument my family and I visited on a trip, I could not tell you. But if you asked me what I ate for lunch at this restaurant while vacationing in Goa in 2009, I could give you the entire rundown. Remembering where I tasted the food is just as important as tasting the food in the first place, it is a holistic, fulfilling experience rather than something to just eat and fill your body with. While my heritage is what allowed me the opportunity to appreciate foods from places all over the world, I would not be the foodie I am today without growing up in Louisiana. Louisiana is it’s own country in terms of food. From slurping up a bowl duck gumbo to sucking all the juice out of freshly boiled crawfish, Louisiana food has proved that good food can truly bring people of all backgrounds together. While I may be culturally confused, I know one thing for sure: for my family, good food brings us together at the dinner table every night.

Wednesday. My third day on the job at Warner Orthopedics. After spending all day Monday and Tuesday learning how to answer phones and file patient documents, I practically jumped out of my chair when Dr. Warner called me to assist with a patient case. “Post-operative infection. You are on clean up duty,” she said. I entered the room to see a red, inflamed pus-filled cyst right under the patient’s big toe. As Dr. Warner made a slight incision to relieve the inflamed build-up…all the puss and fluids exploded in a volcanic fountain out of the wound and onto my brand-new purple scrubs! Dr. Warner continued to drain the wound, filling each 60 ml syringe with fluid and handing me them in one hand while my other hand held a pile of gauze. I found myself grinning at the thought of how grateful and lucky I was to have this opportunity to be so close to the patients and medical processes which lasted all summer long. In fact, after a couple of weeks of working at the clinic, I secured a standing weekly invitation to the OR with Dr. Warner. Since the sixth grade, volleyball has been, without any exaggeration, my life. Playing year round meant tournaments on weekends, workouts in the summer, games on nights before big tests, and preparing for the annual AAU National Tournament in Orlando, FL. I was halfway through my club season in March 2020, preparing to travel to Las Vegas to play in a major tournament, which would help us qualify for nationals. It was heartbreaking to hear we would not be able to finish our season as planned. All the practices, games, traveling, late nights--all the effort and sacrifice had suddenly become meaningless as our season came to a complete halt. When one door closes another one opens: had it not been a summer without volleyball due to COVID-19, I would not have the chance to seek out and get my first real, full time job working at Warner Orthopedics and Wellness as a student trainee. Observing, learning, absorbing every minute of experience from Dr. Warner at her clinic has been the most rewarding and eye-opening experience for me. The job not only solidified my passion in medicine, but working alongside a top female orthopedic surgeon has been tremendously empowering. The first time Dr. Warner invited me to watch her perform surgery, I tagged along with her to the pre-surgical common room, where she stood among six other doctors, all males, with her foot in the chair, speaking her mind and expressing her opinions without a hint of reservation. I was bursting with admiration and pride for her. I was extremely fortunate to have my dream summer job in the midst of the pandemic, however, the COVID-19 situation did negatively affect my college preparation plans in terms of reduced opportunities for standardized testing. The national testing dates for ACT and SAT were canceled one after the other starting in March and all through the summer. I dedicated my entire summer to my full-time job at the Warner Orthopedics. Once school resumed in August, it was a challenge to find time for ACT prep, especially with school volleyball season coming back into full swing as well. As I took the ACT in September, I knew my score did not reflect my best efforts. However, my GPA has always been a solid and consistent reflection of my efforts and academic dedication throughout high school. I always challenged myself with the toughest course load and took pride in being a double sport student athlete. All things considered, I felt I made the most out of the pandemic. While my chances for a higher ACT score were canceled, the exposure to the medical field I received this summer working for Dr. Warner has been invaluable for an aspiring medical professional. I am going into this profession with my heart full of inspiration and ready to dedicate myself completely to this field.

My pediatrician, Dr. Shelley Martin, is a remarkable physician. She wears cool shoes, she tells funny jokes, she treats me like an adult, and she always nails the diagnosis. Observing the way she treats her patients defines what makes a great doctor: genuine empathy combined with exceptional analytical skills. My parents come from completely different backgrounds-- my mom was born and raised in Moscow, Russia during the Cold War, while my Indian-Portuguese dad, born in Tanzania, grew up in Oman. His grandfather brought the family to Kenya to become the “Doctor of Mombasa” --a title bestowed upon him by the grateful patients that admired his dedication to the profession. With extended family located throughout the globe, traveling has always been an essential part of my family’s lifestyle. From visiting my parents’ home countries to watching my aunt play basketball for Russia in the 2012 London Olympics, from exploring an abandoned gold mine in a remote part of Australia to marveling at a ship passing through the Panama Canal, I consider myself a global citizen. Immersing myself in different cultures has allowed me to develop an appreciation and respect for people as they are. My teachers would describe me as an active participant in every class: from picking apart Romeo and Juliet to defending my point about who really started World War I, I love to analyze and dig deep into all types of class discussions. However, if someone were to ask me about my favorite subject, I would gravitate towards the analytical courses, especially Chemistry. I even managed to insert my love of science into my senior English research essay about the ethics of the Human Genome project. While it may be unusual for a high school student to watch a minimally invasive thymectomy performed through the armpit as a hobby, for me, there is no subject more complex, beautiful, and fascinating than the human body. I hope to become a physician one day to not only better the quality of life for others and myself, but because I genuinely enjoy and appreciate connecting with people of any background, race, ethnicity, or socioeconomic status. I often get questioned if I am from this country or that ethnicity--I joke in response that I am a culturally confused melting pot. The more I learn about my roots and extended family, the more I realize my fascination with medicine runs deep in my DNA. Combined with the natural inclination towards the sciences, and the grit and curiosity required to power through years of medical education, I hope to be the “cool doctor” one day, just like my pediatrician.

I was 17 years old when I was invited to scrub in for my first surgery. I have working as a student apprentice at the Orthopedic Clinic for close to a year when the doctor suddenly said I was ready. I was allowed to hold the instruments for the surgeon and assist with very simple yet super important tasks, like holding the retractor to open the incision wider. That is what I am doing in this picture. I am assisting the surgeon to help the person walk again. It does not get any bolder than that.

Fitness is in my DNA. My grandfather and my aunt are Olympic athletes. My father is a marathon runner. My mother is a yogi and deadlifts 250 pounds. Naturally gifted, I have always excelled at any sport I tried. Throughout my childhood, I was thirsty to try it all: soccer, basketball, swimming, running, tennis, softball, gymnastics, volleyball--my poor parents could barely keep up with my schedule! At eleven, I knew that volleyball was my game, so I joined the club and got on the middle school team, and pounded the ball against the wall of our house every days for hours. I started playing year-round and quickly rose to being a starter on every team I played. The prize was hard work was a trip to the Nationals every year in Orlando. In high school, once volleyball season was over, I joined the track and field team and became a pole vaulter. Exercise is my drug of choice--I must have it every single day and cannot imagine life without it. During the pandemic, I picked up running again and became really interested in the benefits of yoga. The spiritual aspect of yoga revealed to me why I enjoy exercise so much--it is the feeling of wellness and energy that I crave. The endorphins that flood your body and mind after the muscles are used. Your body thanks you for taking care of it. Obviously, nutrition is a key ingredient in this overall picture of wellness and mind/body harmony. As a future physician, I want to continue the journey of balance and wellness and to bring these simple yet difficult lessons to all my patients. I may not have become an Olympic athlete, but I might still make it to the Olympics as a sports doctor!

My pediatrician, Dr. Shelley Martin, is a remarkable physician. She wears cool shoes, she tells funny jokes, she treats me like an adult, and she always nails the diagnosis. Observing the way she treats her patients defines what makes a great doctor: genuine empathy combined with exceptional analytical skills. My parents come from completely different backgrounds-- my mom was born and raised in Moscow, Russia during the Cold War, while my Indian-Portuguese dad, born in Tanzania, grew up in Oman. His grandfather brought the family to Kenya to become the “Doctor of Mombasa” --a title bestowed upon him by the grateful patients that admired his dedication to the profession. With extended family located throughout the globe, traveling has always been an essential part of my family’s lifestyle. From visiting my parents’ home countries to watching my aunt play basketball for Russia in the 2012 London Olympics, from exploring an abandoned gold mine in a remote part of Australia to marveling at a ship passing through the Panama Canal, I consider myself a global citizen. Immersing myself in different cultures has allowed me to develop an appreciation and respect for people as they are. My teachers would describe me as an active participant in every class: from picking apart Romeo and Juliet to defending my point about who really started World War I, I love to analyze and dig deep into all types of class discussions. However, if someone were to ask me about my favorite subject, I would gravitate towards the analytical courses, especially Chemistry. I even managed to insert my love of science into my senior English research essay about the ethics of the Human Genome project. While it may be unusual for a high school student to watch a minimally invasive thymectomy performed through the armpit as a hobby, for me, there is no subject more complex, beautiful, and fascinating than the human body. I hope to become a physician one day to not only better the quality of life for others and myself, but because I genuinely enjoy and appreciate connecting with people of any background, race, ethnicity, or socioeconomic status. I often get questioned if I am from this country or that ethnicity--I joke in response that I am a culturally confused melting pot. The more I learn about my roots and extended family, the more I realize my fascination with medicine runs deep in my DNA. Combined with the natural inclination towards the sciences, and the grit and curiosity required to power through years of medical education, I hope to be the “cool doctor” one day, just like my pediatrician.

My pediatrician, Dr. Shelley Martin, is a remarkable physician. She wears cool shoes, she tells funny jokes, she treats me like an adult, and she always nails the diagnosis. Observing the way she treats her patients defines what makes a great doctor: genuine empathy combined with exceptional analytical skills. My parents come from completely different backgrounds-- my mom was born and raised in Moscow, Russia during the Cold War, while my father, born in Tanzania, grew up in Oman. His grandfather brought the family to Kenya to become the “Doctor of Mombasa” --a title bestowed upon him by the grateful patients that admired his dedication to the profession. With extended family located throughout the globe, traveling has always been an essential part of my family’s lifestyle. From visiting my parents’ home countries to watching my aunt play basketball for Russia in the 2012 London Olympics, from exploring an abandoned gold mine in a remote part of Australia to marveling at a ship passing through the Panama Canal, I consider myself a global citizen. Immersing myself in different cultures has allowed me to develop an appreciation and respect for people as they are. My teachers would describe me as an active participant in every class: from picking apart Romeo and Juliet to defending my point about who really started World War I, I love to analyze and dig deep into all types of class discussions. However, if someone were to ask me about my favorite subject, I would gravitate towards the analytical courses, especially Chemistry. I even managed to insert my love of science into my senior English research essay about the ethics of the Human Genome project. While it may be unusual for a high school student to watch a minimally invasive thymectomy performed through the armpit as a hobby, for me, there is no subject more complex, beautiful, and fascinating than the human body. I hope to become a physician one day to not only better the quality of life for others and myself, but because I genuinely enjoy and appreciate connecting with people of any background, race, ethnicity, or socioeconomic status. I often get questioned if I am from this country or that ethnicity--I joke in response that I am a culturally confused melting pot. The more I learn about my roots and extended family, the more I realize my fascination with medicine runs deep in my DNA. Combined with the natural inclination towards the sciences, and the grit and curiosity required to power through years of medical education, I hope to be the “cool doctor” one day, just like my pediatrician.

Wednesday. My third day on the job at Warner Orthopedics. After spending all day Monday and Tuesday learning how to answer phones and file patient documents, I practically jumped out of my chair when Dr. Warner called me to assist with a patient case. “Post-operative infection. You are on clean up duty,” she said. I entered the room to see a red, inflamed pus-filled cyst right under the patient’s big toe. As Dr. Warner made a slight incision to relieve the inflamed build-up…all the puss and fluids exploded in a volcanic fountain out of the wound and onto my brand-new purple scrubs! Dr. Warner continued to drain the wound, filling each 60 ml syringe with fluid and handing me them in one hand while my other hand held a pile of gauze. I found myself grinning at the thought of how grateful and lucky I was to have this opportunity to be so close to the patients and medical processes which lasted all summer long. In fact, after a couple of weeks of working at the clinic, I secured a standing weekly invitation to the OR with Dr. Warner. Since the sixth grade, volleyball has been, without any exaggeration, my life. Playing year round meant tournaments on weekends, workouts in the summer, games on nights before big tests, and preparing for the annual AAU National Tournament in Orlando, FL. I was halfway through my club season in March 2020, preparing to travel to Las Vegas to play in a major tournament, which would help us qualify for nationals. It was heartbreaking to hear we would not be able to finish our season as planned. All the practices, games, traveling, late nights--all the effort and sacrifice had suddenly become meaningless as our season came to a complete halt. When one door closes another one opens: had it not been a summer without volleyball due to COVID-19, I would not have the chance to seek out and get my first real, full time job working at Warner Orthopedics and Wellness as a student trainee. Observing, learning, absorbing every minute of experience from Dr. Warner at her clinic has been the most rewarding and eye-opening experience for me. The job not only solidified my passion in medicine, but working alongside a top female orthopedic surgeon has been tremendously empowering. The first time Dr. Warner invited me to watch her perform surgery, I tagged along with her to the pre-surgical common room, where she stood among six other doctors, all males, with her foot in the chair, speaking her mind and expressing her opinions without a hint of reservation. I was bursting with admiration and pride for her. All things considered, I felt I made the most out of the pandemic. While my chances for a higher ACT score were canceled, the exposure to the medical field I received this summer working for Dr. Warner has been invaluable for an aspiring medical professional. I am going into this profession with my heart full of inspiration and ready to dedicate myself completely to this field. I have been accepted to the Pre-Medical Scholars Program at Spring Hill College with conditional acceptance into the St. Louis University Medical School. One day at a time, I will keep moving towards my goal of donning that white coat.

Throughout my middle and high school years, I have continuously been involved in numerous service projects in my community: I organized nursing home celebrations, volunteered at the food pantry, collected and delivered presents to kids for the holidays, etc. However, at the end of my sophomore year, I had the opportunity to participate in a school organized service trip to the Dominican Republic, along with 12 other peers. With a passion for traveling and adventure, I knew this would be a great chance for not only personal growth, but to experience another culture and impact a community other than my own. I was extremely motivated to seize this opportunity, so I worked for the majority of my sophomore year babysitting and painting mailboxes around town to save the amount needed for travel expenses. Our home for the next week was a campsite in the middle of a secluded village in the mountains, run by a local family. The family had teenaged children who were excited to practice English while we practiced our Spanish in return. On the other hand, the younger ones were thrilled to play baseball and soccer with us, and beat us every time! We experienced traditional meals with the family and I snuck into the kitchen at every opportunity to help, but also to learn the tricks of making the delicious dulce de leche and arroz con pollo. I still keep in touch with some of the kids from the village who are my age, a few have even started going to college in Santo Domingo! Our main tasks involved restoration projects around the village and farmland, such as cleaning the perished plants and assembling new bags of soil and seeds for planting. Clearing out the farmland prepared it for sowing, and the extra helping hands made the task a lot more manageable. Our crowning achievement was building an ecological stove. A valuable asset for the entire village, the ecological stove is made entirely out of natural materials and used daily by multiple families for as long as ten to fifteen years. In places where electricity and natural gas are limited, a natural cooking stove is a necessity in order to feed the village. The main raw material was the local copper colored soil which our group scooped, wheeled, and molded to form the stove structure. As we molded the soil to form the stove, two local women took charge of our group and under their expert direction, the stove quickly took shape just in time for us to test it out. It worked beautifully as we watched the two women cook bread on their newly installed appliance. Working hard all day in the sun, our fingers caked with orange dirt from digging, physically exhausted at the end of each day, but none of us ever complained for a minute--we could all see how our efforts were contributing to this community and how grateful the locals were to have us there. Within days, our Spanish improved tremendously, as did our sign language skills, but most of all we gained a sense of accomplishment and gratitude for the opportunity to travel and experience life in this remote village. While the tasks completed were not world changing, it felt rewarding to know the lives of these people in the village would improve tremendously from just a group of high school students.

Wednesday. My third day on the job at Warner Orthopedics. After spending all day Monday and Tuesday learning how to answer phones and file patient documents, I practically jumped out of my chair when Dr. Warner called me to assist with a patient case. “Post-operative infection. You are on clean up duty,” she said. I entered the room to see a red, inflamed pus-filled cyst right under the patient’s big toe. As Dr. Warner made a slight incision to relieve the inflamed build-up…all the puss and fluids exploded in a volcanic fountain out of the wound and onto my brand-new purple scrubs! Dr. Warner continued to drain the wound, filling each 60 ml syringe with fluid and handing me them in one hand while my other hand held a pile of gauze. I found myself grinning at the thought of how grateful and lucky I was to have this opportunity to be so close to the patients and medical processes which lasted all summer long. In fact, after a couple of weeks of working at the clinic, I secured a standing weekly invitation to the OR with Dr. Warner. Observing, learning, absorbing every minute of experience from Dr. Warner at her clinic has been the most rewarding and eye-opening experience for me. The job not only solidified my passion in medicine, but working alongside a top female orthopedic surgeon has been tremendously empowering. The first time Dr. Warner invited me to watch her perform surgery, I tagged along with her to the pre-surgical common room, where she stood among six other doctors, all males, with her foot in the chair, speaking her mind and expressing her opinions without a hint of reservation. I was bursting with admiration and pride for her. My other role model and inspiration is my pediatrician, Dr. Shelley Martin. She wears cool shoes, she tells funny jokes, she treats me like an adult, and she always nails the diagnosis. Observing the way she treats her patients defines what makes a great doctor: genuine empathy combined with exceptional analytical skills. My parents come from completely different backgrounds-- my mom was born and raised in Moscow, Russia during the Cold War, while my Indian-Portuguese dad, born in Tanzania, grew up in Oman. His grandfather brought the family to Kenya to become the “Doctor of Mombasa” --a title bestowed upon him by the grateful patients that admired his dedication to the profession. With extended family located throughout the globe, traveling has always been an essential part of my family’s lifestyle. From visiting my parents’ home countries to watching my aunt play basketball for Russia in the 2012 London Olympics, from exploring an abandoned gold mine in a remote part of Australia to marveling at a ship passing through the Panama Canal, I consider myself a global citizen. Immersing myself in different cultures has allowed me to develop an appreciation and respect for people as they are. My teachers would describe me as an active participant in every class: from picking apart Romeo and Juliet to defending my point about who really started World War I, I love to analyze and dig deep into all types of class discussions. However, if someone were to ask me about my favorite subject, I would gravitate towards the analytical courses, especially Chemistry. I even managed to insert my love of science into my senior English research essay about the ethics of the Human Genome project. While it may be unusual for a high school student to watch a minimally invasive thymectomy performed through the armpit as a hobby, for me, there is no subject more complex, beautiful, and fascinating than the human body. I hope to become a physician one day to not only better the quality of life for others and myself, but because I genuinely enjoy and appreciate connecting with people of any background, race, ethnicity, or socioeconomic status. I often get questioned if I am from this country or that ethnicity--I joke in response that I am a culturally confused melting pot. The more I learn about my roots and extended family, the more I realize my fascination with medicine runs deep in my DNA. Combined with the natural inclination towards the sciences, and the grit and curiosity required to power through years of medical education, I hope to be the “cool doctor” one day, just like my pediatrician.

Wednesday. My third day on the job at Warner Orthopedics. After spending all day Monday and Tuesday learning how to answer phones and file patient documents, I practically jumped out of my chair when Dr. Warner called me to assist with a patient case. “Post-operative infection. You are on clean up duty,” she said. I entered the room to see a red, inflamed pus-filled cyst right under the patient’s big toe. As Dr. Warner made a slight incision to relieve the inflamed build-up…all the puss and fluids exploded in a volcanic fountain out of the wound and onto my brand-new purple scrubs! Dr. Warner continued to drain the wound, filling each 60 ml syringe with fluid and handing me them in one hand while my other hand held a pile of gauze. I found myself grinning at the thought of how grateful and lucky I was to have this opportunity to be so close to the patients and medical processes which lasted all summer long. In fact, after a couple of weeks of working at the clinic, I secured a standing weekly invitation to the OR with Dr. Warner. Since the sixth grade, volleyball has been, without any exaggeration, my life. Playing year round meant tournaments on weekends, workouts in the summer, games on nights before big tests, and preparing for the annual AAU National Tournament in Orlando, FL. I was halfway through my club season in March 2020, preparing to travel to Las Vegas to play in a major tournament, which would help us qualify for nationals. It was heartbreaking to hear we would not be able to finish our season as planned. All the practices, games, traveling, late nights--all the effort and sacrifice had suddenly become meaningless as our season came to a complete halt. When one door closes another one opens: had it not been a summer without volleyball due to COVID-19, I would not have the chance to seek out and get my first real, full time job working at Warner Orthopedics and Wellness as a student trainee. Observing, learning, absorbing every minute of experience from Dr. Warner at her clinic has been the most rewarding and eye-opening experience for me. The job not only solidified my passion in medicine, but working alongside a top female orthopedic surgeon has been tremendously empowering. The first time Dr. Warner invited me to watch her perform surgery, I tagged along with her to the pre-surgical common room, where she stood among six other doctors, all males, with her foot in the chair, speaking her mind and expressing her opinions without a hint of reservation. I was bursting with admiration and pride for her. My other role model and inspiration is my pediatrician, Dr. Shelley Martin. She wears cool shoes, she tells funny jokes, she treats me like an adult, and she always nails the diagnosis. Observing the way she treats her patients defines what makes a great doctor: genuine empathy combined with exceptional analytical skills. My parents come from completely different backgrounds-- my mom was born and raised in Moscow, Russia during the Cold War, while my Indian-Portuguese dad, born in Tanzania, grew up in Oman. His grandfather brought the family to Kenya to become the “Doctor of Mombasa” --a title bestowed upon him by the grateful patients that admired his dedication to the profession. With extended family located throughout the globe, traveling has always been an essential part of my family’s lifestyle. From visiting my parents’ home countries to watching my aunt play basketball for Russia in the 2012 London Olympics, from exploring an abandoned gold mine in a remote part of Australia to marveling at a ship passing through the Panama Canal, I consider myself a global citizen. Immersing myself in different cultures has allowed me to develop an appreciation and respect for people as they are. I hope to become a physician one day to not only better the quality of life for others and myself, but because I genuinely enjoy and appreciate connecting with people of any background, race, ethnicity, or socioeconomic status. I often get questioned if I am from this country or that ethnicity--I joke in response that I am a culturally confused melting pot. The more I learn about my roots and extended family, the more I realize my fascination with medicine runs deep in my DNA. Combined with the natural inclination towards the sciences, and the grit and curiosity required to power through years of medical education, I hope to be the “cool doctor” one day, just like my pediatrician.