I had the same insatiable curiosity when I started elementary school. I regularly asked questions about the day’s lesson. I sought my teachers out during recess and after school because I wanted to avoid the embarrassment being seen as a nerd. By fifth grade, my teachers encouraged my mom to enroll me in a gifted magnet program. I had seen schools mostly as an escape from my hectic home life, and I was unsure about how well I could keep up in a program for gifted kids.

A gifted magnet school ended up being close by, so my mother enrolled me. At first, I hesitated to participate during class, and I came to school early to get my questions answered by teachers when no one else was around. But, over time, I became comfortable with expressing my desire to learn. By the eighth grade, I reached my stride and felt comfortable owning my love of school. During my last parent-teacher conference, my teachers recommended that I look into private schools for high school because I loved to learn and valued one-on-one time with my teachers.

Private school was something my family never considered as we knew no one who attended one. My parents had not even graduated from high school, let alone college. I associated private schools with privilege, not with someone in my circumstances. When we were invited to a private school open house, we were immediately intimidated by the wealthy, mostly white families also hoping to enroll their kids there. Besides the tuition, we worried about whether we could afford gas money for the commute, uniforms --even lunch, which would not be covered by aid. Despite the intimidating environment, I sensed the immense opportunities at this school. I decided to apply and was accepted with a full scholarship.

On the first day, I felt that I was entering another world. In my first class, the teacher had everyone share what they did over the summer, and every student seemed to have taken a luxurious and exotic vacation. I continued to note my differences and struggled to find my footing. But I maintained my practice of visiting teachers during their office hours, and I slowly began to enjoy the opportunities to learn. I eventually overcame a lot of my initial shyness, and as the year progressed, I began to love my classes, and my science class in particular. At the end of the year, my science teacher told me he noticed my interest in the sciences and encouraged me to apply to a two-week cancer research summer program at USC. A few weeks after applying, I learned that I was accepted.

When the program started, I was eager to get into the medical research since that aspect was new to me. I discovered that most of the other students in the program were the children of physicians or professors. I wondered if I deserved to be a part of the program and felt embarrassed whenever I was unfamiliar with medical terminology. But I loved learning about cancer, especially at the cellular level, and I developed great relationships with the physicians who taught in the program. When the program was over, the director pulled me aside and encouraged my interest in medicine, telling me I should consider medical school. Hearing this from an actual medical doctor made me realize it was time to stop selling myself short. I thought about all the doubt I had been carrying with me throughout my education, always questioning if I belonged, and I decided to put an end to it. I decided to commit myself to a future in medicine and double up on science courses for my senior year. I now use my grandfather’s medical encyclopedia as a reference for my physiology class, and my dream of becoming a doctor no longer feels like a childhood fantasy, but something I believe I can accomplish.