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Personal Narrative: My Migration To America Essay

“Life is a marathon and you’re still at the store buying your running shoes. ” I was sitting in class in ninth grade zoning out when my global history teacher approached and told me that. Those words hit me hard, and for the first time I felt shame. I was never the brightest student in my family, always stuck in the shadow of my overachieving sister. I didn’t take school seriously. I figured there was no point in pursing an education if I was going to join my father in his food business.

My parents are emigrants from Uzbekistan who came to America in search of a brighter future for my sister and me, as well as to escape religious persecution from Muslim extremists. Unfortunately, the migration to America struck my family with financial woes that have been extremely difficult to overcome. My goal was to become financially independent from my family as quickly as possible. This had become a time old tradition for the men of the family spanning back over five generations; finish grade school and find a job where you can make a living and raise a family.

Little did I know, I would be the first to break this cycle. That moment in class was the first time anyone had asked me what I wanted to do with my life. The teacher went on to tell me that everyone has the potential to do something great in life and it was a shame watching me throw it away for nothing. That night, I set a goal for myself. I had to become serious. I recognized that there was more to life than merely making a living. If I was going to pursue anything it would have to be something that I am passionate about, and something that would make a difference.

I began by paying attention in class, improving my grades, registering for extra electives for the following year, and even taking early college-now courses. Everything in my life began to change, from my friends to my attitude. My future was looking bright. The only thing left was to pick a profession, something that would ignite my spark. That was when my parents were involved in a terrible accident. In March 2009, my parents were pedestrians struck by a car. My mother was diagnosed with a fractured tibial plateau, and was wheelchair bound for five months.

During this difficult time accompanied her to numerous appointments and met many different medical personnel. Surprisingly, I became inspired. It was an awful time for my family, but it was an experience that changed my life. Everything about the healthcare system fascinated me. I asked many questions about medications, imaging techniques that were used on my mother, and job descriptions of practically everyone I had encountered.

I remember telling a nurse about how I found the hospital to be the most interesting place that I have ever visited and she replied, “Well if you feel that way, you should become a doctor, they practically live here. With my newfound inspiration, I began to educate myself by volunteering at several health care facilities including Forest View Center for Rehabilitation and Nursing and Beth Israel Medical Center. It was only a glimpse at the road that lay ahead of me but it was enough to turn my spark into a flame. When I first got to college, it felt like I was thrown into a deep ocean without knowing how to swim. I learned how to balance a schedule which involved work, school, household responsibilities and study time.

I was my own advisor, secretary, and event planner. I learned to be patient and persistent, and cherished the significance of organization, stress management and most importantly, how to thrive under pressure. I know that these traits will benefit me in medical school and beyond as a physician. One of the most important aspects of medicine is patient communication. This was especially demonstrated to me while I volunteered at Columbia Hospital. I was tasked with feeding an irritable patient that was paralyzed from the neck down for the past 30 years.

A simple 25-minute lunch turned into a two-hour long conversation. Being in that room with him instilled a deep sense of sympathy that I knew would be necessary in a field where doctors use facile explanations of illnesses to their patients. Patients often don’t understand the full extent of their illness and neither do their loved ones. It is important for doctors to have the ability to sympathize with their patients. After our conversation, the patient had become significantly more cooperative with the staff.

It was such a motivating and educational experience to see how a volunteer, of all people, could improve the standard of care for a patient. I can only imagine the impact a physician could make. My heart and soul is set on becoming a doctor. Given the chance, I am certain that I will be a successful physician because of my passion towards the sciences, commitment to healthcare, and intimacy with patient communication. Learning the art of healing is something to be revered and sought after and I am willing to do whatever it takes to become a humble and respected physician.

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