Chemistry burned a hole through my eraser. I was working on practice problems for my gen chem class when my last eraser stroke took the paper with it. I stared at the ripped paper and leftover eraser shavings, then my gaze shifted to the "new" eraser cap I just put on, only to see the slightly dented metal ferrule. How long have I been in the library? It's dark outside. I checked my phone to see a text from "Roomie" delivered 1 hour ago. On my home screen it read, "I'm going out tonight. I'll be quiet when I get back!" Guess I'll be alone this evening. Again. Above the message was 11:38PM. I stared back down at my worn down eraser before resting my forehead onto the desk, pencil still wedged between my fingers. The next thing I saw was the librarian hovering over my shoulder. "The library is now closed. Please gather your things and get some rest at home," she said. I blinked at the wall clock. 1:55AM. My neck ached, but I didn't know if it was from sleeping in my arms or the hours of bad posture while studying. For a moment I thought about the unfinished practice problems. Then my phone lit up with another missed message from "Mom", delivered 2 hours ago. "Your location says you're at the library. Did you leave your phone?" I gathered my things and tried to collect my thoughts into a better response than "my bad mom. I studied too much again, skipped dinner, and fell asleep at the library even though I just promised you I'd start taking better care of myself." I hate how familiar that apology had become. The same promise I kept making, the same promise I keep breaking. Pathetic. After getting back to the dorm, I set my bag down and collapsed onto my desk chair. I noticed my desk covered in eraser shavings. Last time I facetimed Mom, I was bragging about my clean desk. I was always lectured about clutter as a kid. I pulled my phone out to muster some kind of response. My fingers froze above the keyboard. Why was it so difficult to talk to my own mother? I used to tell her every detail about my day. How long ago was that? Now, I can't shake the feeling college work has burnt a hole in more than just my eraser. Then finally, my thumbs started typing, "Hey mom, I ran out of eraser caps. Can you get me some more?" I almost laughed. After hours of studying and leaving my family in the dark, the thing that convinced me to reach out was an eraser cap. Not my exhaustion. Not the missed calls. Not the fact I had fallen asleep alone in the library. An eraser.

Gloves restocked. Soiled linen washed. Trash taken out. Check, check, and check. I got through my task list in less than two hours. The summer before senior year, I volunteered at Cape Fear Valley Hospital. This was my first experience in healthcare. I approached my first day viewing healthcare through the only lens I knew: efficiency. I quickly realized my fixation with productivity and checking items off my list was far from the big picture of healthcare. "Excuse me, miss. I don't mean to be rude, but I watched you enter my room twice today without saying a word to me. That is very unprofessional of you," a patient told me. I didn't understand. Those words replayed in my head until my conversation with a nurse at lunchtime. I asked her if she was tired of patients constantly ringing the call light for needless requests. "These patients don't ring it just to be annoying. They do it because they feel safe and comforted, knowing you're down the hall for anything, even if it's just asking for ice." For the remainder of my volunteer experience, I made a point to answer the call lights, talk with patients, and show empathy during my rounds. The experience taught me healthcare is not defined by clinical tasks alone but also the humanity and compassion shown to patients. I volunteered in many different organizations and a wide range of service projects. I was interested in the field since middle school, but my limited knowledge gave me a distorted view of what the profession was about. It wasn't until the hands-on experience that I realized healthcare was more than a high-salary field. My volunteer work gave me a glimpse of the human-centered aspect of healthcare. Rather than assuming from this experience that healthcare was the right path for me, I took steps to discover the field more fully. This summer, I completed a Certified Nursing Assistant course and did clinical training in a local nursing home. Caring for residents showed me the less glamorous side of healthcare. I explored the physically demanding work and the emotional challenges, but these experiences confirmed that serving people during their most vulnerable moments is exactly where I want to be. My goal in healthcare is to restore dignity to people during some of their most vulnerable moments. I will make a difference by becoming a physician assistant who bridges the gap between medical knowledge and human connection so that patients don't feel like another task on a provider's list. I also plan to empower patients by focusing on preventative care and using education to turn a patient's fear into understanding.

Gloves restocked. Soiled linen washed. Trash taken out. Check, check, and check. I got through my task list in less than two hours. The summer before senior year, I volunteered at Cape Fear Valley Hospital. This was my first experience in healthcare. I began my first day viewing healthcare through the only lens I knew: efficiency. I quickly realized my fixation with productivity and checking items off my list was far from the big picture of healthcare. "Excuse me, miss. I don't mean to be rude, but I watched you enter my room twice today without saying a word to me. That is very unprofessional of you," a patient told me. I didn't understand. Those words replayed in my head until my conversation with a nurse at lunchtime, when I asked a nurse how tired she was of patients constantly ringing the call light. "These patients don't ring it just to be annoying. They do it because they feel safe and comforted from knowing you're down the hall for anything, even if it's just asking for ice." For the remainder of my volunteer experience, I made a point to answer the call lights, talk with patients, and show empathy during my rounds. The experience taught me humanity in healthcare and showed me how little I knew about how to treat others. To gain more of this positive experience, I have taken steps to work with more patients, such as the CNA course I am currently taking. I plan to make a positive impact on the world by showing love and care to as many people as I can. I spent many years volunteering through my church, community service projects, and a Sports Buddies program. These experiences taught me the various ways to show care and empathy. My desire to pursue healthcare is driven by my urge to understand humanity and promote dignity and a better quality of life in those who feel chained due to health-related issues. Outside of school, I am passionate about fitness. In my youth, I learned skills quickly and excelled above my class, but I often plateaued and became frustrated when progess slowed. This pattern repeated throughout my life, but my initial reaction to failure is not the same as before. When I was a child, I gave up after the first defeat. Today, I continue pursuing volleyball, weightlifting, running, and calisthenics for the love of the game, regardless of my ability relative to my peers. My biggest life motivator is my grandmother. Before immigrating to the US, she was widowed and worked tirelessly as a single mother of two. Over the years of hardship, she mastered the art of survival. She raised livestock, learned how to sew so that her children did not wear ragged uniforms to school, cooked, and worked ptirelessly to provide for her children. It was not my grandmother's personal testimony that I was moved by, but the testimony of those she impacted. My mother once told me, "God doesn't give you everything, but He will supply you with everything you need. I did not have the luxury of growing up with two parents as you do, but I had a supermom who was like two parents and more." My grandmother is one of the strongest people I know because of her actions. Even today, she continues caring for our family of 11 with the same tireless work ethic. After all these years, her resilience has not been extinguished. It drives me every day to try and keep up with her.