Growing up as a Vietnamese American, I witnessed firsthand the challenges my immigrant parents faced in navigating the healthcare system. Their struggles with high costs and cultural insensitivity shaped my early views on healthcare and sparked my curiosity about how I could bridge the gap between underserved communities and quality care. That ultimately led me to pursue nursing, a field that combines my passion for science with my desire to help others. One experience that deeply impacted my understanding of the importance of cultural sensitivity in healthcare occurred during my time as a hospice volunteer. I was providing comfort to a family who only spoke Vietnamese and were struggling to communicate with the healthcare team caring for their father. They shared how they felt excluded from his care due to the language barrier, and how every question they asked seemed to be treated as a "dumb" question. They expressed feeling powerless and disconnected from the process. I was able to translate their concerns to the nurse and get them the much-needed answers, easing their anxieties and ensuring that their father's care was more aligned with their needs and values. This experience taught me that effective healthcare is not just about providing clinical care, but also about addressing the emotional and cultural needs of patients and their families. Through my experiences as a Nursing Assistant Student at Villa Siena and a hospice volunteer, I learned that effective healthcare requires both technical skills and empathy. I saw how essential it is to connect with patients, especially those from marginalized backgrounds who may feel overlooked or misunderstood by the system. These experiences solidified my commitment to pursuing a career in healthcare, where I can not only provide skilled care but also advocate for more inclusive and compassionate practices. As a person of color, I am keenly aware of the importance of diversity in healthcare. To this day, my family remains wary of medical assistance due to their past experiences with extreme costs, lack of transparency, and cultural insensitivity. I know that these are persistent issues shared by many minority groups that ultimately lead to poorer health outcomes, distrust of beneficial programs, and a sense of hopelessness. Through my nursing career, I aim to advocate for greater representation and cultural awareness in healthcare. By combining my scientific knowledge with my personal experiences, I hope to improve patient outcomes for marginalized communities and ensure equitable access to quality care. I want to be a voice for these communities, addressing their unique needs and helping to alleviate the anxiety and distrust that too often surrounds healthcare, making it more accessible to those who need it most.

I’ve always believed that the mind and body are inseparable—a belief that pushed me to study psychology at San Francisco State University. While I loved learning how thoughts and emotions shape behavior, I couldn’t ignore how psychology was also being used to manipulate people in marketing and social media. We live in a world where “attention is the new currency,” and for my generation, it feels like there’s a constant battle for our mental health. Phones aren’t just tools anymore; they’ve become extensions of ourselves, pulling us into an endless cycle of notifications, curated content, and ads we didn’t ask for. I saw this play out in a deeply personal way with my mom. After menopause, she changed—more irritable, distant, and tired. Then she discovered the internet, and things got worse. Unlike my generation, she didn’t grow up with it, so she fell for every scam, conspiracy theory, and clickbait headline. The algorithm worked overtime, feeding her an endless stream of sensational videos, prayers, and politically charged content. She’d fall asleep with her earbuds in, her phone still playing YouTube videos on autoplay. Conversations became impossible as every disagreement turned into a confrontation with someone convinced the world was out to get her. It left me wondering: How does this happen? Why does it happen so often? Why are phones and social media so addictive, and are they designed to be that way? Is anyone looking into the long-term effects of using social media and algorithms tailored to individual users? Why is this addiction not being taken seriously? Who is left to pick up the pieces? I can’t help thinking I could have done more to prevent it. In retrospect, I see how enticing social media must have been for my mom. All her children had moved out, and my dad often did his own thing. She had given up her career years ago to support my father’s house-painting business, which, while successful, has always been just the two of them. They don’t have many friends either. She must have felt alone, frustrated, and unfulfilled. Then along came social media, offering endless connections, a sense of purpose, and the belief that she alone knew what was really going on in the world. It convinced her that she had a duty to “spread the truth” and “be a leader.” In some ways, social media gave her everything we neglected to provide: validation, purpose, and connection. If we’d paid more attention to her physical and mental well-being, maybe we could have prevented this. Watching this unfold reshaped how I see mental health. It’s not just something people should “manage” on their own—it’s something deeply influenced by systems. Social media addiction isn’t treated like a public health crisis, even though it should be. More importantly, it's indicative of larger issues in our society and personal lives. This experience is one of the reasons I’m pursuing nursing. I want to help people heal not just physically but mentally, especially when life’s pressures—both personal and societal—become overwhelming. I also want to advocate for greater awareness of how modern life impacts mental health because people shouldn’t have to fight these battles alone. We all deserve better.