My journey to medicine began not in a classroom or clinic, but in the quiet resilience of a community with limited access to education or healthcare prospects or opportunities. I was raised by a single father, while my mother, who struggled with alcoholism. Her experience shaped my earliest understanding of what it means to fall through the cracks of the healthcare system and planted the seed for why I want to become a physician. Growing up, I witnessed firsthand how substance use disorder and chronic health conditions can devastate families when systems fail to intervene. My mother’s community lacked not only the medical infrastructure to support her, but also the culturally competent care needed to break cycles of illness and trauma. These early experiences gave me an enduring awareness of how poverty, geography, and stigma intersect to produce deep health inequities. I chose to pursue medicine because I believe every person, regardless of where they are born or the challenges they face, deserves the opportunity to live a healthy, dignified life. I was drawn to dermatology because skin conditions are often visible and stigmatizing especially when they go untreated and because skin is often a reflection of broader systemic issues: poor access, late diagnoses, or gaps in research. I want to be the kind of physician who sees beyond the disease and considers the patient’s entire story. I am frequently reminded of the biases and stigma that the skin may portray and ultimately deeply affects the quality of care delivered. The minute needle track marks are identified, a patient may be minimized to their vices and not evaluated for the complex, valuable individual they are. When the skin has a yellowish hue, the patient is assumed to simply be an alcoholic or drug user who recklessly contracted hepatitis. I have witnessed these encounters firsthand, embarrassed, and eager to inspire change. I am passionate about addressing substance use disorders, particularly among individuals experiencing homelessness in Los Angeles. Growing up with a mother who struggled with alcoholism, depression, and grief, I saw how addiction can devastate personal and family lives when left untreated. Her story drives my belief that physicians have a responsibility to screen compassionately for substance use in every patient, and to serve everyone with dignity and open-mindedness. Additionally, while volunteering at Union Station Homeless Services, I’ve listened to the stories of unhoused individuals battling addiction, stories of resilience, pain, and hope, just like my mother’s. These experiences have shaped my commitment to outreach, advocacy, and nonjudgmental care for society’s most vulnerable populations. I am passionate about this topic because nearly 1 in 10 of my future patients will experience Substance Use Disorder, and it is our responsibility to provide them the care they deserve.

My journey to medicine began not in a classroom or clinic, but in the quiet resilience of a community with limited access to education or healthcare prospects or opportunities. I was raised by a single father, while my mother, who struggled with alcoholism, lived on a Native American reservation where she felt isolated from the developed, affluent world. Her experience shaped my earliest understanding of what it means to fall through the cracks of the healthcare system and planted the seed for why I want to become a physician. Growing up, I witnessed firsthand how substance use disorder and chronic health conditions can devastate families when systems fail to intervene. My mother’s community lacked not only the medical infrastructure to support her, but also the culturally competent care needed to break cycles of illness and trauma. These early experiences gave me an enduring awareness of how poverty, geography, and stigma intersect to produce deep health inequities. I chose to pursue medicine because I believe every person, regardless of where they are born or the challenges they face, deserves the opportunity to live a healthy, dignified life. I was drawn to dermatology because skin conditions are often visible and stigmatizing especially when they go untreated and because skin is often a reflection of broader systemic issues: poor access, late diagnoses, or gaps in research. I want to be the kind of physician who sees beyond the disease and considers the patient’s entire story. Along the way, the road to medical school was not easy. I worked many jobs including waitressing, tutoring, and providing early special education interventions for children on the Autism Spectrum during college to help cover tuition and living expenses. Financial instability was a constant pressure, and there were moments I questioned whether this dream was sustainable. But these struggles strengthened my resilience and deepened my resolve. I learned how to advocate for myself, ask for help, and push forward, all qualities that I now bring to my clinical work and hope to pass on to my patients. Today, I am especially passionate about dermatologic research that addresses inequities in care for marginalized communities. I plan to use my MD to develop clinical trials and outreach programs focused on conditions like psoriasis and skin cancer, which are underdiagnosed and underrepresented in patients of color and low-income populations. My goal is not just to treat disease, but to rebuild trust in medicine especially in communities like my mother’s, where trust has been broken throughout most of history. Having experienced hardship has made me a more empathetic listener, a more persistent advocate, and a more grounded future physician. I carry my mother’s story, my father’s strength, and my community’s unmet needs into every exam room and every research question. I don’t see medicine as a career, I see it as a commitment to healing, justice, and hope.

As I earn my MD degree, I feel a deep sense of responsibility and purpose in becoming a physician who serves communities that have historically been overlooked and underserved. My decision to pursue dermatology stems not only from the fascinating complexity of the skin, but also from a personal drive to address the disparities I have seen in both dermatologic research and clinical care, particularly for patients of color and those from marginalized backgrounds. Growing up, I noticed how often common skin conditions in communities of color were misdiagnosed, underdiagnosed, or simply not taken seriously. This lack of accurate recognition and tailored treatment wasn’t just due to provider bias, it reflected a broader absence of inclusive research, educational materials, and representation in dermatology. It became clear to me that in order to create meaningful change in healthcare, we need to push for equity not only in access to care, but also in the scientific questions we choose to ask and the populations we prioritize in answering them. I am especially passionate about psoriasis, a chronic inflammatory skin disease that affects patients physically, psychologically, and socially. Psoriasis can look dramatically different in richly pigmented or aged skin, yet dermatologic training and literature continue to underrepresent these variations. Furthermore, patients from socioeconomically disadvantaged or culturally marginalized backgrounds often face significant barriers to accessing specialty care or novel treatments, including biologics. As a future dermatologist and physician-researcher, I hope to use my MD to develop inclusive research programs and clinical trials that address these inequities directly. My goal is to design and implement trials that specifically recruit and serve underrepresented populations, ensuring that new therapies are tested across diverse skin types and genetic backgrounds. I believe this is essential not only for scientific rigor but also for justice because patients deserve evidence-based care that reflects who they are. Beyond research, I am committed to building community-based dermatologic programs that screen for skin cancers, especially in patients of color, who are often diagnosed at later stages due to lack of awareness, delayed referrals, or insufficient training among providers. By improving early detection and culturally competent education, I hope to reduce preventable morbidity and mortality in these populations. Ultimately, I want to use my MD to bridge the gap between academic dermatology and real-world community impact. Whether through publishing research, mentoring students from underrepresented backgrounds, or advocating for inclusive public health initiatives, I aim to center my work on the belief that skin health is a matter of dignity, visibility, and justice. Dermatology has the potential to transform not only how patients look and feel, but how they are seen and valued in our society and I want to be the physician who helps make that transformation possible.