Hometown: Bronx, New York, USA

Undergraduate School:  Private, College of the Holy Cross

Major: Biological Psychology

GPA: 3.79

MCAT: 33. PS: 12, V: 11, BS: 10.

Successful medical school admissions essay

I envy those whose passions trace back to a perfect anecdote, because mine do not. I did not discover my alma mater by making a wrong turn on the way to another school, I did not meet my girlfriend by sharing an umbrella on a rainy evening, and each time someone asks why I am so determined to study medicine, I provide a different reason. I will share two of my favorites with you.

My housing cooperative, Edgewater Park, is home to a unique cast of characters; picture kids written by Mark Twain from families written by Tennessee Williams. At the center of our enclave in the southeast Bronx stands “the mansion,” an old two-story brick building that serves as the home of the Edgewater Park Volunteer Fire Department (EPVFD). I might not have a neat account of how my desire to study medicine originated, but I do have a memory from my time at the EPVFD that serves to remind me why I should persevere through any obstacles in my education and training. 

While at the scene of a motor vehicle collision we received a call from a man in respiratory distress, forcing us to divide our crew in two. I was seventeen, the youngest of four responders to the latter call, serving as nothing more than a spectator unless something needed to be fetched from the truck. Standing aside dutifully with a stethoscope and blood pressure cuff clenched in my sweaty hands, I watched senior members deliver a few rounds of CPR and then I carried our medical bag back to the truck. On the way I passed by a neighbor who came to claim the dog inside who no longer had an owner. I walked home and looked at the ceiling above my bed for nine hours. I considered quitting the next morning, but decided to sign up for an EMT class instead. Fires and medical emergencies can be scary, but it was that feeling of helplessness that made me question who I am. I resolved to keep my badge and commit myself to earning the trust that comes with it. After all, studying fascinating topics in exchange for knowledge and practical skills that can help people is a small price to pay for a set of eyelids between my eyes and my bedroom ceiling on most nights. This mindset led me to the premedical program at Holy Cross.

In the midst of a dense curriculum of science courses my junior year, I filed away my MCAT materials for later use and became involved in schizophrenia research using a mouse model on campus. That summer I interned on a project using neuroimaging to study executive function in schizophrenia. The following year, I completed a thesis project on clinical and research nosology of schizophrenia as the recipient of the Fenwick Scholar Award. Two years later, I find myself back in the Bronx, sitting in an evaluation room at Einstein listening to a patient describe how this intrusive disorder led him to “give up on life too soon.” My three years in neuroscience research have taught me two key lessons about my place in the medical profession. First, I discovered my personal need to diversify my work. I have found that a busy, varied schedule serves to enhance my engagement in each effort I undertake and only enriches the perspective that I carry into it. Plus, it always helps to have exciting results from new data to offset a disturbing firehouse call from the previous night. Second, as much as I love the academic side of medical research and collaborating with fellow lab members, I have learned that having discussions with participants about how our work translates to their lives is my favorite thing in the world to do.

Given the nearly twenty active human research studies at my lab, most of which include a clinical component, I have encountered many people and families with varying degrees of curiosity and concern about the condition that brought them to our lab. As much as I always regretted my very limited ability to help the people to whom I was exposed, I acknowledge the invaluable lesson that it taught me: you rarely help people as much as you hoped or as little as you think. I have administered medical treatment to exactly zero people in my time at the lab, compared to the hundreds of patients I have treated while either volunteering or working as an EMT in New York City. Still, my time spent in dialogue with the family of a child with autism about individualized education programs, or with a participant from the schizophrenia study about how the state of her relationship with her daughter seems to dictate her symptom severity, has gone just as far to convince me that I have chosen the right career to pursue.

While I cannot identify the point in time at which I set my sights on a career in medicine, in retrospect I see a tale of fate at which I cannot help but grin and roll my eyes. Multiple apparently parallel paths that have formed my identity—such as interning in neurosurgery at NYU, serving as a firefighter and EMT in my community, working in a neurophysiology lab at Einstein, and conducting schizophrenia research across multiple disciplines and organizations—seem to serendipitously converge at this application process. Putting my Fenwick thesis into practice, I plan to dedicate myself to the translation of medical research to clinical practice as a whole, and even more to my enjoyment, to the care of my individual patients in the context of their lives.

Analysis

Gregory begins his essay with a clear, honest introduction, in which he admits a lack of a singular source of his passion for medicine. He then briefly lays out the structure of the remaining paragraphs, which gives the essay a clear trajectory and sense of purpose. His candid voice and ability to tell engaging stories with clear takeaways directly related to the medical field make a convincing case for his skills as a future physician.

In the first anecdote, Gregory does not overstate his role in the emergency rescue; rather, he is honest about his helplessness and how it inspired him to learn the skills necessary to assist in such situations. Without stating it outright, Gregory shows the reader that he is humble, honest, and eager to learn. He will do whatever it takes to help others.

In the second anecdote, he describes the two primary lessons that he learned from his neuroscience research. Through these introspective realizations, Gregory convinces the reader that he understands his identity and his purpose. Thus, it becomes clear that he has chosen a fitting career and will be a caring, patient-centric physician.

From 50 Successful Harvard Medical School Essays edited by the Staff of the Harvard Crimson. Copyright (c) 2020 by the authors and reprinted by permission of St. Martin's Publishing Group