There may be personal information that you want considered as a part of your
application. Write an essay describing that information. You might include
exceptional hardships, challenges, or personal responsibilities that have
shaped or impacted your abilities, academic credentials, or educational goals.
As a daughter of two foreigners, I have been instilled with a mixture of ideas and culture from three different countries: France, Morocco, and America. I have noticed from my parents and from the way of life here that these three countries are defined by their own distinct manner. For example, if I were to fly to France for lunch I would munch on a cheese and butter sandwich with a cup of soup; in Morocco I would be welcomed with plates and plates of savory couscous; in America I would be "chowing-down" a hearty burger. And even though all these countries have their own culture and way of life, an underlying commonality in all of them is the need for help.
As a senior, I am now constantly bombarded with the question "What do you want to do with the rest of your life?" To many this might seem daunting, but ever since I realized that there will always be a universal necessity for help, my mind has been made up. Anytime a counselor, teacher, or other figure whips out that question, I reply with the same answer: I would like to be a doctor.
I have revolved my high school life around this goal, because it is a goal worth being put on a pedestal. Freshman year to now, I have swamped my schedule with Pre-AP and AP classes to create a broad, stable knowledge of a variety of subjects. In the last two years, I have decided to double up on sciences, so that I can have a smoother transition from high school to majoring in biology in college. Over the past two summers, I have volunteered at Cooks Children Medical Center. The first year I was assigned to the Pulmonary Clinic, and filed papers; however, the second year I requested to be put in a department where I would have more patient interaction. I was placed into Childlife. On my very first day there, the nurses assigned me to a room where I was supposed to watch over a child, while his parents had a meeting with the doctor. Foolishly, I had walked in there expecting the kid to be sitting on a bed, maybe coughing, but not being extremely sick. What I saw was the exact opposite. This little boy was hooked to a ventilator, IVs were everywhere, he could not speak, and his eyes were vacant. The nurses told me that he had a brain tumor. As I spoon fed this him, my eyes filled with tears. I hated how unfair the situation was, why did he have to go through this? He was just a little kid. And what about the parents? They barely spoke English and their eyes were just as empty as their son's. I was happy to find out that a couple weeks later the little boy went through surgery and is now in full recovery.
This little boy and his family strengthened my determination to make it into the medical field, because it reemphasized how it does not matter what race, religion, or sex a person is, one day he/she will need help, and the doctors are the ones that can provide it. They are the ones that offer understanding when nobody else can; they help alleviate pain when it is too painful to bear; they are the ones that provide the light of comfort in gurgling fear. Hopefully in the year 2025, I'll able to look in the mirror with a white surgeon coat on and a stethoscope around my neck, knowing that I accomplished my goal.
application. Write an essay describing that information. You might include
exceptional hardships, challenges, or personal responsibilities that have
shaped or impacted your abilities, academic credentials, or educational goals.
As a daughter of two foreigners, I have been instilled with a mixture of ideas and culture from three different countries: France, Morocco, and America. I have noticed from my parents and from the way of life here that these three countries are defined by their own distinct manner. For example, if I were to fly to France for lunch I would munch on a cheese and butter sandwich with a cup of soup; in Morocco I would be welcomed with plates and plates of savory couscous; in America I would be "chowing-down" a hearty burger. And even though all these countries have their own culture and way of life, an underlying commonality in all of them is the need for help.
As a senior, I am now constantly bombarded with the question "What do you want to do with the rest of your life?" To many this might seem daunting, but ever since I realized that there will always be a universal necessity for help, my mind has been made up. Anytime a counselor, teacher, or other figure whips out that question, I reply with the same answer: I would like to be a doctor.
I have revolved my high school life around this goal, because it is a goal worth being put on a pedestal. Freshman year to now, I have swamped my schedule with Pre-AP and AP classes to create a broad, stable knowledge of a variety of subjects. In the last two years, I have decided to double up on sciences, so that I can have a smoother transition from high school to majoring in biology in college. Over the past two summers, I have volunteered at Cooks Children Medical Center. The first year I was assigned to the Pulmonary Clinic, and filed papers; however, the second year I requested to be put in a department where I would have more patient interaction. I was placed into Childlife. On my very first day there, the nurses assigned me to a room where I was supposed to watch over a child, while his parents had a meeting with the doctor. Foolishly, I had walked in there expecting the kid to be sitting on a bed, maybe coughing, but not being extremely sick. What I saw was the exact opposite. This little boy was hooked to a ventilator, IVs were everywhere, he could not speak, and his eyes were vacant. The nurses told me that he had a brain tumor. As I spoon fed this him, my eyes filled with tears. I hated how unfair the situation was, why did he have to go through this? He was just a little kid. And what about the parents? They barely spoke English and their eyes were just as empty as their son's. I was happy to find out that a couple weeks later the little boy went through surgery and is now in full recovery.
This little boy and his family strengthened my determination to make it into the medical field, because it reemphasized how it does not matter what race, religion, or sex a person is, one day he/she will need help, and the doctors are the ones that can provide it. They are the ones that offer understanding when nobody else can; they help alleviate pain when it is too painful to bear; they are the ones that provide the light of comfort in gurgling fear. Hopefully in the year 2025, I'll able to look in the mirror with a white surgeon coat on and a stethoscope around my neck, knowing that I accomplished my goal.