“Can’t help myself” by Sun Yuan and Peng Yu is a piece of art that draws me in both emotionally and mentally. The machine is desperately trying to clean its own mess without realizing that it is spreading the paint around even more, thus the machine making things worse when it’s trying to fix things. Due to my borderline personality disorder, I have felt like I ruin everything I touch but have never been able to describe that numbing feeling until I saw Yuan and Yu’s creation. The machine is the best way to describe the ache in my heart and the whole in my soul. The design of this mechanical piece of art is the best representation of what being mentally ill feels like and has allowed so many people to feel connected with the artist on an emotional level, which is what art should do.

I am the epitome of a student who “has it all together,” I get good grades, am involved in several clubs, and have several amazing friends but some days, I struggle to breathe. I have been diagnosed with borderline personality disorder among other things and the nightmares in my brain have caused me to have attempt suicide several times. Even after months of therapy and medication, living still feels heavy but on every single one of those days I have resisted the urge to attempt and that is my greatest achievement. My battle with suicidal ideations and depression has taught me to be kind to every soul I meet because appearances are deceiving. If you were to look at me in a classroom, I looked happy, like I was ready to take on the world; in fact, when opening up to some people about my struggles, they mentioned my happy appearance. I hid my depression with good grades, club positions, and a happy persona. The day after my first failed attempt, I decorated for a football game and I never told anyone what I did the night before. I hid everything so well that no one knew that I struggled but on the heaviest days, the genuine kindness of my friends and strangers made the worst days bearable. My hidden battle with mental illness has taught me that everyone needs kindness in their life because you may never know what is hidden. The kindness shown by the people in my life on my worst days instilled in me that a little bit of kindness goes a long way. Showing genuine kindness to those around me is something I will continue. If I show a stranger some kindness then maybe their day will get better or like their smile more, they might even show someone else kindness, or they might do absolutely nothing and that is 100% okay. Spreading kindness is about making someone’s worst days a little more bearable and I want to instill that ideology into everyone I meet because you never know what someone could be struggling with.

Growing up as a first-generation American in a household with immigrants parents from a poverished country, you are quickly exposed to the injustices prevelant in the American medical system. For years, I have heard stories and seen firsthand what can happen to a patient who is uninsured, not financially stable enough to afford treatment, does not not speak English, is a minority, or simply a human; they all can fall victims to medical professionals who do not uphold the promises of their Hippocratic oath. The majority of most healthcare professions uphold their oath and do their jobs with honor but there are a few who do not and those few can do the most harm. The horrid stories and experiences with oath breaking medical professionals is why I want to work in an underserved community during my medical career. During my junior year of high school, I had an internship at a pharmacy and would do the register for patients picking up their medicatons and that experience solidified my need to work in an underserved community. The average cost of medications that I have handled were between five to twenty five dollars after the insurance coverage which seemed reasonably affordable for prescriptions that only needed to be filled once or twice, at least in my persective as someone living in a middle class household; however, if someone were to depend on that medication for a couple of months to years, or even the rest of their life, the cost would add up rapidly, making it less affordable and inaccessible to low income families. Every once in a while, some prescriptions would ring up for several hundreds of dollars and most of the time, the cost could be lowered with a secondary insurance coverage or a coupon but not all the time. I vividly remember scanning the long list of prescriptions for an older lady, who was picking up medication for her husband, the cost added up to three hundred seventy four dollars and thirty eight cents and after having the pharmacist try their best to lower the cost with no results, the older lady started crying. “I don’t know what meds I can skip for him, he needs them all but they are so expensive,” she said. While this is a moment that I remember intensely, that was not the only instance where someone was upset over the extravagent cost of medication and I agree, the cost of medication and healthcare has gone up tremoundously. Big Pharma and for-profit health insurance companies have caused the American health care system to become greedy. Medical attention has become more like customer service rather than genuinely upholding the Hippocratic Oath and while the majority of health care providers do their job with integrity, there is still a significant amount who go into medicine for the money or the authority. I want to be a doctor who fights the greedy health care system and give high quality, affordable healthcare to an undeserved community. People deserve the ability to seek medical help without worrying about the costs or fear of being discriminated against.

Growing up in an asian household with immigrant parents, academic success has been pushed onto me since pre-school; as I have grown up, my parents lessened their expectations but my goals only grew. From my very first pediatrician visit, I knew that I wanted to be a doctor but once I entered high school and have taken physics and engineering classes, I have discovered my passion for biomedical engineering as well. My engineering passion was discovered during one of my depressive episodes. For years I have suffered from severe depression and anxiety which has only worsened over the years but those episodes have changed the entire trajectory of my life. After a depressive episode filled with suicidal ideations, my brain would imagine the ways in which I could improve the medical world and help others. Over the past year, I have thought out ways to save an ectopic pregnancy, create joints, and brain activity powered magnets which will connect to a prosthetic. Once I have realized that my engineering ideas always came after a severe depressive episode, I realized that I am surviving through my depression and staying alive in order to help and save lives in the future. The combination of both of my passions: medicine and biomedical engineering, has resulted in me wanting to pursue higher education. My academic goals is to get my doctorate in biomedical engineering as well as my medical degree in order to be an engineering practicing physician. With such high academic goals, I will be in school for 12 years after high school which will set me back financially for years but I know that is my life calling and I cannot be more excited to take on the challenge.

A parentified child is a term my therapist uses to describe me and my childhood as I have grown up translating, speaking, and being the bridge between my immigrant family and the American world; I have grown up at an extremely young age, I was four when I had to call for my doctor appointments, I was seven years old when I helped my parents file their taxes, and I was eleven when I had to accompany and translate for my immigrant grandmother during her surgery preparation. While being a parentified child has forced me to miss my childhood, it has shown me the struggles other people experience when going through with simple things, like a sports physician, dental cleaning, and even trying to buy medical experience; the exposure to the difficulties someone will experience in a new country has taught me how to be compassionate and understanding and that is something I want to bring with me in my medical world journey. The patience and understanding shown to me by the nurses, front desk clerk, and physicians when I was translating for my immigrant family was genuine, it has touched me from the very ripe age of four. Walking in with my father for an appointment regarding his high cholesterol and blood sugar, I had no idea what any of the medical terminology was or even how the things in our blood affected our health; I struggled tremendously with the big words and how to even break them down to a translatable sentence for my immigrant father. I remember being so confused on how to explain things thoroughly in english since it was my second language, but the nurses and physicians listened and described things to me in such a caring and thorough manner that it made me feel safe and heard in a language I barely knew. Every single healthcare provider I interacted with that day always had a smile on their face when answering my questions. The unforgettable medical world introduction and meaningful kindness shown to me by the healthcare providers in that office inspired me to go into the medical field because of the genuine compassion they showed to a stranger. I want to show someone the same kindness I was given at four years old; I want to ensure that all my patients feel safe and heard when speaking to me, despite any language barriers.

Staying alive is my greatest achievement to date. I am the epitome of a student who “has it all together,” I get good grades, am involved in several clubs, have financial stability in my household, and have several amazing friends but some days, I struggle to breathe. I have been diagnosed with severe unipolar depression, anxiety, and several other mental disorders; the nightmare in my brain has made it impossible for me to live, causing me to have attempted suicide several times over the past year. Even after months of therapy and medication, living still feels heavy on some days but on every single one of those days I have resisted the urge to attempt again and that is my greatest achievement thus far. My battle with suicidal ideations and depression has taught me to be kind to every soul I meet because appearances can be deceiving. If you were to look at me in a classroom or a student council meeting, I looked happy, like I loved being alive and was ready to take on the world; in fact, when opening up to some friends and teachers about my mental struggles, they also talked about how I appeared stable due to the appearance I put on. I hid my depression with good grades, executive club positions, and a happy persona; the day after my first failed attempt, I got up and decorated for the homecoming football game and I never told anyone what I did the night before. I hid everything so well that no one knew that I struggled but even on the heaviest days, the genuine kindness of my closest friends and strangers made even the worst days bearable. My hidden battle with mental illness has taught me that everyone needs some kindness in their life, regardless of the kind of person they are, because you may never know what is hidden under their persona. The kindness shown by the people in my life on my worst days instilled in me one idea: a little bit of kindness goes a long way. Showing genuine kindness to those around me is something I will do for the rest of my life and hope to inspire others to do as well. If I show a stranger some kindness then maybe their day will get better, they will like their smile more, they might even show someone else kindness, or they might do absolutely nothing and that is 100% okay. Spreading kindness is about making someone’s worst days even a little more bearable and I want to instill that ideology into everyone I meet because you never know what someone could be struggling with.

If you want something, work for it; that is something that my parents have intro my brain from the second I entered this world and that is what I intend to do to achieve every single one of my goals. From a young age, I fell in love with every aspect of school because I loved the challenge of learning something new. I was fascinated in learning why numbers multiply the way the do and why frogs first begin as tadpoles; my love for learning only grew when I discovered my passion. As I have gotten older and realized that my passion lies in biomedical engineering and helping others, my goal is to received my doctorate in biomedical engineering and my medical degree to become an engineering physician. Discovering my passion was not easy for me as I struggle mentally with severe depression and bipolar disorder but at the end of each episode, my mind wanders into the unknown and imagines medical innovations. My imagination has created ways to prevent atopic pregnancies, create joints, and build brain activity powered magnets for prosthetics, then I noticed a pattern. After the more severe depressive, suicidal ideation episodes, my brain would come up with the most innovative ideas that would help so many people and potentially save some lives. After fighting the urge to harm myself, I would create an idea that would better someone’s livelihood, then it hit me: I fought to stay alive so that I could potentially help others; that pattern is what is pushing me to pursue higher education. Yes, I may struggle but others who are also struggling and if I can create some medical device or surgery to help them, then I should; I have fought to stayed alive because my life’s purpose is to help others and in order to do that, I must pursue higher education. My passion for biomedical engineering and my love for learning is why I will continue my education to the highest degree possible: an engineering doctorate and a medical degree. Juggling both medical and graduate school will be a struggle but I am no stranger to hard work. From my freshman year of high school I have been involved in a pharmaceutical internship, student council as class president, National Honors Society as an executive officer, and even creating a Model United Nations club. I have been directed involved in several clubs by planning/directing events, teaching my peers how to speak in a public forum, and communicating with school administration and local businesses to promote community involvement. My busy schedule has taught me responsibility and time management skills which will help me immensely in my journey of pursuing higher education and reaching my goals.

Graduating high school with an associate’s degree, getting valedictorian, double-majoring in aerospace and civil engineering, and accepted into the honor’s college, all while being someone with a kind soul and the biggest heart; my best friend Braegan is my greatest inspiration. I met Braegan in October of 2020 and she instantly became the best person I know. She works so hard in everything she does, even when she is spread thin with school, college, cheer, student council, and other extra-curicculars. I have never met someone who works so hard in every aspect of her life, just because she wants it. Even at the point of exhaustion, she is studying and working for hours on end every single day, just because she wants to achieve something. The pure motivation and dedication demonstrated by Braegan everyday, inspires me every single day; if Braegan can accomplish her dreams, so can I. From the very beginning of our friendship, she has taught me what genuine love and friendship looks like. Both of us struggle mentally yet whenever I needed her, regardless of how she was doing, she has never hesitated to help me. Despite all the stress, she never fails to wake up everyday and make the world a better place. She makes everyone feel included, laughs at every joke that is said, and compliments everyone just to make someone’s day better, even slightly. Braegan demonstrates care and kindness to every single person, even if they have wronged her; she rises above and that is what I want to do. I want to rise above the negativity, work hard, and inspire others, just like my inspiration and best friend: Braegan.

Drowning is when you are completely submerged in a substance, grasping for air that is nowhere to be found. Drowning is fighting to reach the surface but being dragged to the depth of darkness. Drowning, to me, was being alive, it was going through my daily life and being submerged by the negative feelings that consumed my heart. Suddenly, when you feel your lungs filling with the darkness, a lifeline appaears and navigates you through the murky waters. My lifeline is my bestfriend: Braegan, whom I met in October of 2020. Most of my life, I have been been taught that love comes with terms and conditions, pre-requisites in order to be loved. The friendship Braegan has shown me and taught me what genuine friendship and love is. The first time I had a depressive episode and told Braegan, she picked me up and held me as I cried. Everytime I was tired, she woke me up with coffee. When life felt too heavy, she allowed me to share that burden with her. When I did not want to stay here, she kept me on this Earth long enough to heal. When life was worth celebrating, she was by my side. When I could not breathe from laughter, she was making more and more jokes. Braegan is my very best friend, my person, and my “everything.”

Black lives matter. Stop Asian hate. My body, my choice. Love who you love. When you ask people what their year was like, they’ll most likely say that they missed a life without masks and social restrictions. To me, 2020 was a year of awakening to me. I’ve grown up and lived in a predominantly white, conservative town, which has led to me to suppress my democratic/liberal beliefs. As my friends praised Donald Trump and his policies, I would sit there silently despite the rage fueling in my body but no matter how outraged I was at their statements, I remained silent. Even when I had my rebuttals bouncing around my head trying to find a way out, I kept my opinions, my voice a prisoner in my head. During the height of the popularity of the many justice movements, social media is where people expressed their views the most and the place where I first allowed my voice to be free. At the beginning, I carefully watched what I liked, retweeted, and posted because I was scared. I was scared that I would lose friends. I was scared that I would receive backlash from those around me. I was scared that if I spoke up, I would be known as the “radical liberal” around my community, like many others who shared their views. This fear stopped when I saw many of my peers retweeting and posting their views that defended the oppression, discrimination, and killing of humans. I could not stay silent on these injustices anymore and if I spoke up, I could possibly educate the ignorant. So I started using my voice, I posted and retweet petitions, articles, videos, and anything that would spread awareness. I used my voice because no matter how scared I was of losing friends, it did not matter because someone was scared of losing their rights and/or their rights. To this day, I continue to fight for justice of those who cannot and will do so far as long as I can. I will continue to spread awareness and information as best as possible. My fear does not matter when innocent people are dying and that realization is what changed me for the better. The moment I began using my voice, I knew I wanted to encourage others to use their voice and that is what I want to do for the rest of my life. I want to show others that staying silent is what the oppressors want. I want to show people that fear is finite but the impact of their words is infinite.

Don’t ask, don’t speak, is what I heard consistently growing up in an asian household. Any trauma from the Vietnam War, any depression or anxiety was not to be spoken of because you do not want to seem weak. Your entire life purpose is to work and do everything you can for your family. If you are struggling, ignore it because there is always someone else whose struggles are worse. The stigma in asian cultures surrounding mental health has led to many asians, including myself, to not be able understand their mental disorders and receive the proper help. From a young age, I was a perfectionist because my self-worth relied solely on my academic achievements and if I did fail, my automatic thought was “I’m not good enough, I deserve to die,” For my entire childhood and the majority of my teen years, I thought those thoughts were normal. Until a therapy session allowed to me realize that those same automatic thoughts I was having as an eight year old were passive suicidal ideations. But asking to go to therapy to receive help is what made me realize how toxic the asian culture was towards mental health. For years, I never cried in front of my parents unless I was in trouble. Whenever I has crying breakdowns, I would stuff a pillow over my face to suffocate the sounds of my sobs. I did not want to reveal my weakness and struggles to my asian parents. I knew that they would call me crazy and not be able to understand how tiring being alive was. This cycle of walking on eggshells around my parents continued through my teenage years, even so much so that I did not even tell my parents about a failed overdose attempt. I finally was able to ask my parents about therapy when I realized that my passive ideations were becoming active. I came to my parents, eyes swollen from the sobbing, and told her I wanted to die. I cried and begged my asian immigrant parents to be able to understand that my mind was eating me alive and that I needed help. After hours of crying and discussion, they reluctantly agreed on one condition: my extended family members would not know about my mental disorders. Despite my parents “breaking” the stigma of suffering in silence by allowing me to receive therapy, they also forced me to stay silent by not telling my other family members. The mental health stigma ran so deep within my parents that they were contributing to it without even realizing it. I want to do the exact opposite, I want to encourage and educate asian Americans on the danger of ignoring mental health. I want to become apart of this change by speaking up about my experiences. I want my asian peers to know they are not struggling alone and to break the mental health stigma within the asian community.