Personal Statement

As I stared at the ceiling from my hospital bed, the pitter-patter of my IV drip breaking the silence of the night shift, my thoughts dwelled on the infection that had swept me off my feet. A junior in high school, I had set a personal record in a cross-country race a few days ago. Now, my swollen knee throbbed as MRSA threatened to take my leg. Dr. Richard Hengel, an infectious disease specialist, worked tirelessly to save my leg and my life. But as surgical intervention neared, my hope waned and despair took hold. In a final attempt before surgery, Dr. Hengel prescribed another novel antibiotic cocktail. The next day, my condition improved, and the weight of despair lifted. Through my experiences as a patient, a camp counselor, an AIDS advocate, and a social entrepreneur, I’ve affirmed my desire to become a physician who embraces the social imperative of developing and scaling novel solutions, creating treatment models that address both the physical and the emotional burden of illness.

When I shadowed Dr. Fadlo Khuri, an oncologist, in the summer before I entered college, I saw the same burden of fear I briefly experienced as a patient in the faces of cancer patients. One young man, hollowed out by months of arduous treatment, held his wife’s hand as he anxiously waited to hear his test results. When he learned that his cancer had spread, I watched hope fade as despair gripped him and his wife. I came to understand the emotional tumult of disease more deeply in college when I volunteered as a counselor at Camp Kesem, where I led a group of six children whose parents were oncology patients. As a camp community, we aspired to mitigate the pain of loss through open dialogue. On the last night, campers voiced their fears of the unknown, lending shape to their sorrow. With stories shared and tears shed, we came together to sing a song of solace: “Lean on me, when you’re not strong, I’ll be your friend, I’ll help you carry on.” I appreciated more deeply the power of compassionate communities to alleviate the emotional burden of illness; as a physician, I will work to find solutions that effectively address patients’ physical and emotional needs.

Inspired by Dr. Hengel’s experience as an infectious disease specialist at the height of the AIDS epidemic, I joined Emory’s chapter of Quilt on the Quad at the start of my freshman year. I now serve as president, enlisting volunteers, raising funds from local businesses, developing awareness of HIV/AIDS among thousands of students, and collaborating with the NAMES Project to organize the largest collegiate display of AIDS memorial quilts. During our events, the abstractions of scale give way to cathartic moments of collective recognition and mutual support. Of all the people I’ve met, Katie, a graduate student whose uncle died from AIDS, stands out. She explained how her family endeavored to share their love through thread and fabric, coming together to craft a quilt that would honor her uncle’s life and memory. Katie’s experience underscores an essential truth: each panel we display represents a life lived and a person loved. As a physician, I will work in service of this truth.

Moved by my experiences with communities affected by cancer and HIV, I decided to apply the principle of personal care through compassionate communities in a new context. After watching friends with chronic illnesses struggle to stay current in school after a hospitalization, I founded Patient Tutoring, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization dedicated to providing free online tutoring to students during and after their hospital stays. Clearing regulatory hurdles proved difficult, but it paled in comparison to the challenges of creating change in large institutions. Despite these challenges, I ultimately developed a successful partnership with a children’s hospital system, which connects Patient Tutoring with the students most in need of help. In one instance, Leslie, a mother of two children with chronic illness, emailed me through the website, and I developed a tutoring plan to get her children current in math. With every spark of understanding they made progress, and with each new skill their confidence grew. After many weeks of diligent work, they had surpassed the requirements for their grade levels and approached their classes with enthusiasm. Every moment of progress reminded me of the impact that compassionate communities can have in the lives of children with chronic illnesses; as a physician, I will continue to take on the social imperative of finding and scaling novel solutions.

I’ve experienced the transformative potential of medicine – as a patient, a camp counselor, an AIDS advocate, and a social entrepreneur. I’ve witnessed the pain of patients fearful of the future, the resolve of families dedicated to the memory of a loved one, and the joy of students freed from the academic burden of chronic illness. I’ve come to understand the social imperative of finding and scaling solutions, and the importance of devotion and persistence in caring for the whole person. As a physician, I will apply the principles of compassionate care in the pursuit of total healing, treating each patient with the dedication shown to me years ago as I lay in a hospital bed.

Duke Secondary

At Emory, I have worked to improve the lives of patients through advocacy, social entrepreneurship, and research. At Duke, I would continue to advocate for change through collective action, develop and scale novel solutions, and engage in medical research.

At Emory, I’ve served and advocated for others through Quilt on the Quad, Project Sunshine, and Camp Kesem. As the president of Quilt on the Quad, I’ve helped organize the largest collegiate display of AIDS memorial quilts each year, commemorating the millions who have died and advocating for those who live with HIV/AIDS today. As a member of Project Sunshine, I’ve worked with children who face medical challenges, and I’ve come to appreciate the importance of social support in the management of illness. As a counselor at Camp Kesem, I’ve supported children affected by a parent’s cancer and witnessed the power of compassionate communities to lift the burden of sorrow. At Duke, I would continue to serve and advocate for others. At the Fremont Rural Health Clinic, I could promote proactive management of disease, and through the Genesis Home Health Initiative, I could support single mothers as they break the cycle of poverty and find a permanent residence.

As the founder of Patient Tutoring, I’ve developed a novel model for the delivery of care to underserved, economically-disadvantaged students during and after their hospital stays. From my own experience, I understand the obstacles to wide adoption that every novel solution faces. To bring Patient Tutoring to market, I’ve had to persevere through failure, and I’ve developed a broad base of skills in leadership, entrepreneurship, and management. At Duke, I hope to continue to make an impact in the lives of others, using the skills I’ve developed at the local level to make a global impact. Through the Global Health Interest Group, I could draw from my experiences as the founder of a nonprofit in the pursuit of novel models for the delivery of medical care in developing nations. Through the Global Health Study program, I could study health systems abroad during my third year, finding ways to eliminate health disparities.

As a research assistant, I’ve explored the myriad pathways of the brain, working toward a future without the specter of neurodegenerative disease. With every discovery, we make progress toward this future; until then, however, providing support to patients and their families is incredibly important. At Duke, I hope to help people with dementia reconnect with their past through the Music & Memory project. From an early age, I’ve loved listening to music; in college, I became the music editor of a magazine. Music has the power to transcend space and time and evoke memories of a halcyon past. For people with memory impairment, music can reawaken the self, punctuating the fog of dementia with moments of lucidity. The Music & Memory project is a model for the compassionate care I hope to deliver as a physician, bringing together art and science in the pursuit of solutions that recognize the whole person.

Describe the community in which you were nurtured or spent the majority of your early development with respect to its demographics. What core values did you receive and how will these translate into the contributions that you hope to make to your community as a medical student and to your career in medicine? What improvements do you think might make the described community better?

I’ve lived in Atlanta for the past 19 years. With a population of almost six million, the Atlanta metro area is home to people of virtually every ethnic background, religion, and language. Living in the city center, I’ve enjoyed the diversity of experience that a multicultural society provides and the opportunities Atlanta offers to learn, serve others, and thrive. As a physician, I hope to serve a similarly diverse population, bringing sociocultural awareness and compassion to every case.

From an early age, I have learned how to help people with disabilities. Diagnosed with Best disease, my father became legally blind before my first birthday; medical intervention could not restore his eyesight, but he found strength in my support. As a child, I attended schools where my mother worked as a special education teacher, and she moved to new schools three times before I entered fifth grade. In the process of changing schools, making new friends, and adapting to new environments, I learned from diverse perspectives and cultures; in my mother’s class, I met students who faced the challenges of their disabilities with the same bravery and determination I saw in my father. We drew strength from our similarities and celebrated our differences, and this diversity of experience opened my world and informed my worldview. In the pursuit of effective medical practice, I will acknowledge and respect patients’ diverse perspectives, backgrounds, and cultures, approaching each case with the sociocultural sensitivity I developed at an early age.

In seventh grade, I joined the cross-country team at school, and I continued to compete as a long-distance runner until the end of my senior year. In high school, I practiced for three hours each day, ran races each week, and lettered each season. The values I developed as a cross-country runner - the discipline, persistence, resilience, and teamwork that brought our team to victory at the state championship all four years - will be essential to the successful practice of medicine. But I also learned that some challenges require different solutions. In my junior year, a MRSA infection put me in the hospital, days after I ran a personal record in a race. Quick intervention saved my life, but returning to my studies and training after many weeks proved difficult. Inspired by the infectious disease specialists at Piedmont Hospital who worked tirelessly on my behalf, I became an advocate for HIV/AIDS awareness through Quilt on the Quad, and I founded Patient Tutoring to address the support deficit many students encounter upon returning to school after hospitalization. As a tutor, I’ve worked with students of all ages, cultures, and backgrounds. As a physician, I hope to develop and scale novel solutions that recognize the myriad burdens of illness and the central role of sociocultural diversity in the practice of compassionate care.

While the city center of Atlanta, where I live, is highly diverse, the suburbs of Atlanta have much less racial and cultural integration. The political, economic, and sociocultural benefits of further integration are undeniable. Borne of ignorance, interpersonal prejudice can fade away in a highly integrated society. In addition, further integration leads to the elimination of health inequities, offering the opportunity of a healthy life to everyone, irrespective of race, socioeconomic status, or place of residence. As advocates, physicians play a vital role in the fight for social justice. Differences in health outcomes among demographic groups often reflect a failure of social responsibility and public policy; as a physician, I will work to eliminate these disparities.

Describe a situation where you have chosen to advocate for someone who is different from yourself. What does advocacy mean to you and how has your advocacy developed? How do you see it linked to your role as a physician/leader? What risks, if any, might be associated with your choice to be an advocate?

As president of Quilt on the Quad, I advocate for those who live with HIV/AIDS and commemorate the millions who have died from the disease. It is easy to forget the abject horror of the early years of the epidemic, when patients died of obscure strains of pneumonia and cancer in the thousands. Methods of transmission were unknown, and bigotry, superstition, and hysteria gripped the public. Since then, the advent of HAART has significantly improved the prognosis of those affected by HIV, but there is still work to do. As the search continues for an HIV vaccine, it is important to reduce HIV transmission and promote management of infection in the developing world. Inspired by those who lived at the height of the AIDS epidemic and motivated by the challenge of improving lives, I joined Emory’s chapter of Quilt on the Quad at the beginning of my freshman year. As an advocate, I develop awareness of HIV/AIDS among the student body, raise funds for local advocacy groups, and collaborate with the NAMES project to organize the largest collegiate display of AIDS memorial quilts in the United States. During our World AIDS Day event, the awesome scale of the quilt display gives way to personal, cathartic moments of solemn remembrance and mutual support. Each panel we display, each name we read, represents a life lived and a person loved. We work to keep alive the memory of each person so that the human cost of disease is never forgotten.

Advocacy is an exercise in empathy, one that requires an open mind, emotional intelligence, and intellectual curiosity. To advocate is to give a voice to the voiceless, speak truth to power, and call others to action. To successfully advocate for change, one must understand opposing points of view while remaining true to one’s guiding convictions. My values and convictions have remained the same over time, but my advocacy has changed in scope and approach. I once advocated for change on an interpersonal level, but I now understand that change requires collective action; successful advocacy calls on people to put their beliefs into practice in the pursuit of a better world. As leaders in their communities, physicians have a unique opportunity and responsibility to advocate for change. In clinical practice, physicians advocate for their patients and for healthy lifestyles. Within the greater medical community, physicians advocate for new treatment models and clinical practices, and in the world at large, physicians advocate for greater access to medical care and the eradication of disease. Advocating for change carries risks, however; tradition, bigotry, and ignorance can obstruct progress, and change is often highly unpopular. When Dr. Luther Terry, a former Surgeon General of the United States, released a report that conclusively linked smoking with lung cancer, emphysema, and heart disease, he confronted, and was vilified by, the tobacco industry. While his advocacy stood in opposition to public opinion, many people quit smoking as a result of his evidence-based appeal; the lives saved by Dr. Terry’s advocacy number in the millions. During the civil rights movement, Martin Luther King Jr. observed, “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” The progress our society has made in the years since supports this observation, but I would offer one qualification. The arc of the moral universe only bends toward justice through collective action, when people come together as one to call for justice. We must never assume that positive change is inevitable; rather, we must work tirelessly in the pursuit of a more perfect world.

What has been your most humbling experience and how will that experience affect your interactions with your peers and patients?

With nearly 100 chapters nationwide, Camp Kesem serves thousands of disadvantaged children each year. Camp Kesem has only one requirement for admission: campers must have a parent who has cancer, recovered from cancer, or died from cancer. Since every child at camp has been directly affected by a parent’s cancer, campers can be themselves, secure in the knowledge that their peers understand their struggle. For many campers, Kesem is the only place where they can escape the anxiety of their parent’s illness, and they look forward to reuniting with their friends each year. Many counselors are former campers, affected by their parents’ cancer; the friend who introduced me to Camp Kesem in my freshman year, for example, lost her father to cancer in early childhood. For her, serving as a counselor was one of the many ways she helped the organization that had given her so much as a child. Before I served as a counselor in my freshman year, I had some experience with cancer - my grandfather died of cancer when I was a child - but my experience paled in comparison to the experiences of other counselors and campers. My parents had never fought a protracted battle with cancer, and both are alive today. At Camp Kesem, I was in the minority; humbled by this reality, I knew that I had to listen, learn, and serve.

Built on a foundation of open dialogue, Camp Kesem encourages campers to share their stories. Every year, we have an empowerment night, when the whole camp comes together to talk about their experiences, fears, and feelings. After dinner, we walk with our cabin groups into gym and stand in a circle. The event starts with a reminder that no one is alone in shouldering the burden of grief. “Step forward if you know someone who has been affected by cancer,” the camp advisor says. Everyone steps forward. “Step forward if you have been affected personally by cancer,” the camp advisor continues. About two thirds step forward. “Step forward if you have lost a parent to cancer.” Half of the room steps forward. In a single moment, campers see that they are not alone, that others carry the burden of grief. Secure in this knowledge, campers speak about their experiences. Loss is a major theme of their stories - loss of a parent, loss of time, loss of potential - but some of what was lost is ultimately found in the safe haven of the Kesem community. Cancer injects uncertainty, anxiety, and fear into the lives of each camper, but each finds solace and strength in the friendships they build at camp. Watching campers meet the challenges of their parents’ cancer with strength and maturity was incredibly humbling and profoundly moving. As a physician, I will approach each case with the understanding that patient care profoundly affects patients and their families, seeking treatment models that effectively address the physical and emotional burdens of illness.

What qualities will you bring to the practice of medicine?

As a physician, I will draw on the qualities of empathy, resilience, and mindfulness that have brought me success as an AIDS advocate, a camp counselor, and the founder of a nonprofit.

As president of Quilt on the Quad, successful preparation for our annual World AIDS Day event demands leadership, flexibility, and diligence. I collaborate with the NAMES Project to organize the largest collegiate display of AIDS memorial quilts, more than 800 panels in total. While preparing for the event, I’ve had to plan for all eventualities, including inclement weather, traffic problems, and security issues. Successfully planning, recruiting, and fundraising for our event – the largest collegiate display of AIDS memorial quilts in the United States – required building a culture of collaboration and resilience among the leadership team and the volunteer group.

As a counselor at Camp Kesem, a camp for the children of cancer patients, I found that lifting the burden of grief in others requires compassion, empathy, and mindfulness. In my freshman year, I led a group of six kindergarteners; this year, I worked with a group of eight teenagers. Each cohort presented a different challenge. With the kindergarteners, I spent most of my time keeping each camper on task as I led them through team sports, obstacle courses, and scavenger hunts. During cabin chats, the younger campers expressed a fear of the future, but few comprehended the extent of their parents’ illnesses. While the older campers required far less management during daily activities, they needed far more emotional support. At home, they tended to suffer quietly, turning to destructive coping methods as they grappled with the pain of loss. For many, Camp Kesem was the only place where they felt that others could truly understand their struggle. As a counselor, I gave guidance to my campers and facilitated their conversations with one another, hoping to alleviate the pain of loss through open dialogue. During cabin chats, the barriers that each camper had placed between themselves and the world fell away, and each spoke honestly about their struggle, their fears, and their grief. Without an emphasis on empathy, compassion, and resilience, I would never have broken through emotional barriers to help each camper reach a greater truth.

As the founder and president of Patient Tutoring, a nonprofit organization providing free tutoring to students during and after their hospital stays, establishing and running the organization has required leadership, collaboration, and resilience. After organizing the enterprise, filing for nonprofit status, and developing an innovative business model to surmount regulatory hurdles, I pitched Patient Tutoring’s services to children’s hospitals and patient advocacy groups. Administrators showed initial interest, but bureaucracy and institutional inertia proved difficult to overcome. Committed to the mission of Patient Tutoring, I persevered in the face of failure and changed my strategy to better reach the patient populations I hoped to serve. After speaking in person to hospital/homebound coordinators, I developed a partnership with Egleston Hospital, connecting Patient Tutoring with children most in need of help.

Through these experiences, I have further developed empathy, resilience, and mindfulness. As a physician, I will apply these skills in the pursuit of treatment models that acknowledge the multidimensionality of medical care.

What role has research had in your preparation for medicine?

As a student studying the mechanisms of fear and neurodegenerative disease, research has played a vital role in my preparation for a career in medicine. By immersing myself in the world of translational research, I’ve experienced firsthand the power of experimental exploration to find new treatments for debilitating illness. In my freshman year, I explored the mechanisms of fear acquisition in mouse models in the lab of Kerry Ressler, MD, PhD, focusing on the translational potential of our findings for the millions of people who live with post-traumatic stress disorder. Through manipulation of the cre recombinase transgene, we found that decreased levels of corticotropin releasing factor led to reduced fear response, suggesting a path by which new therapies could be developed. Dr. Ressler moved to McLean Hospital at Harvard Medical School at the end of my freshman year, and I went on to study the mechanisms of neurodegenerative disease in the lab of Chad Hales, MD, PhD. Mastering new techniques proved challenging, but I believed and still believe that our research could improve lives. When I met patients struggling with neurodegenerative disease, hearing their stories and meeting their loved ones underscored the importance of our work in the lab. Only further research, and the perseverance of those who conduct it, could create a future without neurodegenerative disease. At Duke, I hope to continue engaging in translational research, cognizant of the vital role research plays in the discovery of new treatment models.

Describe a situation where you failed. What did you learn from the experience? Describe at least one functional impact of the experience.

When I founded Patient Tutoring, I believed that free tutoring for students during and after hospitalization would be highly attractive to hospitals and advocacy groups, sparking quick adoption. During the next 18 months, however, I came to understand the myriad challenges of establishing a nonprofit and the importance of resilience in the face of failure. From the start, designing Patient Tutoring entailed a formidable challenge: the organization would have to limit costs, comply with HIPAA and numerous other regulations, and leverage technologies to scale to new patient populations. After creatively solving these problems with an innovative business model, I found that organizing and filing for nonprofit qualification presented another hurdle, one that required months of careful study and diligent work. After receiving IRS qualification for 501(c)(3) status months later, I faced the arduous task of marketing to children’s hospitals and advocacy groups. After creating a list of more than 200 children’s hospitals and national patient groups, I pitched the organization to each one. Some administrators expressed interest, but bureaucratic inertia proved difficult to overcome; early interest failed to translate to meaningful action. After 14 months of exhausting and time-consuming work, I had failed to gain traction with patient populations. Confused and confronted with failure, I coped with this situation by staying optimistic, focusing only on what I could control, and looking to others for advice. My mother, a special education teacher, offered a helpful perspective; she believed that Patient Tutoring could augment the services that hospital/homebound coordinators provide, filling a gap in the delivery of tutoring services. I decided to conduct an experiment; instead of targeting administrators at hospitals and at patient organizations, I talked directly with hospital/homebound coordinators at local hospitals. At Egleston Hospital, the hospital/homebound coordinator was enthusiastic about Patient Tutoring’s mission and services. She began recommending Patient Tutoring to the parents of children in the hospital, and the first tutoring request arrived soon after. Since then, I’ve tutored students of all ages and backgrounds, and their success despite medical challenges is a testament to their attitude, drive, and courage. Founding, marketing, and operating a nonprofit has been one of the most significant challenges of my life. Without the lessons of failure, I would never have reached the students I tutor today. Failure taught me the value of resilience; as a physician, I plan to approach each case with dedication, compassion, and perseverance, drawing from my experiences as the founder of a nonprofit in the practice of compassionate care.