Hometown: Wilsonville, Oregon, USA

Undergraduate School: Private, University of Portland

Major: Chemistry: Biochemistry and Spanish

GPA: 3.86 out of 4.0

MCAT: 33. PS: 12, V: 9, BS: 12.

Example medical school statement

Standing on the fourteenth tee, I watched my ball bounce gingerly down, down, down, and disappear. On the 288-yard downhill sharp dogleg left I was looking at, I planned to use my trusty draw to land on the green in one shot, putting me in position for an eagle or, at worst, a tap-in birdie. I was in the lead in the district tournament going into this hole, and knew I could do it. I only needed a par, but I had never missed this shot and I thirsted for that eagle. Ten minutes later, however, I watched my third consecutive shot go out of bounds. The crowd went silent. Choking back tears of frustration, I took a deep breath and finally gave in, grabbed a short iron, and played it safe with my very last ball. Although it only took me four shots to finish the hole, I could only stare in disbelief at the ten on my scorecard.

Years later, I learned another lesson in humility as I stood in between a young mother and a nurse in a small urgent care clinic. Despite a passion for foreign languages, I had been terrified to speak to native speakers; deciding not to let my fear control me, I had signed up to interpret Spanish after only having studied the language for a year and a half. “What’s wrong?” is a simple enough phrase to interpret, yet instantly, five different possible translations had come to mind. I opened my mouth, hoping that something would burst forth from the brain fog, but instead I just stood there. Looking at the floor while trying to sort out my thoughts as quickly as possible, I felt their eyes and concerns that maybe I was not ready for this challenge. Had I overestimated my abilities? Had I tried for an eagle when I only needed a par?

Despite a rough first day, I kept at it. I volunteered to work with as many patients as possible, practiced with interpreters during slow hours, stayed as late as I could, and spoke further with patients while we waited for physicians. Soon, I found myself learning more than the Spanish I had come to perfect; as I learned more about the people who had come to the US from other countries and heard about the healthcare they had received there, I discovered an intense interest in international health. I heard life stories and saw how lack of access to medical care can turn a possibly treatable disease into a fatal one, as a young girl was diagnosed with advanced leukemia. One woman from Mexico, when diagnosed with diabetes, said she knew it was coming because everyone in her family had it. When we told her that she could reverse it by changing her lifestyle, she just stared. “You mean, I don’t have to live with this? I can be cured?” It was my turn to be blown away at the gaps in medical education, that in a population so highly affected by this disease, there were people who honestly did not know that it was preventable.

One dark, rainy January night, it all came together. On my way out of the door of the clinic, I heard someone yell, “Interpreter, please!” I returned to find a young woman crumpled over in pain; she needed to be seen immediately. All at once, every thing functioned like clockwork. A nurse took her vital signs while I took her medical history. One person simultaneously set up a room while another ran to get the physician. As soon as the nurse was done, I escorted the patient to her room and the physician hurried in. I had never interpreted with such ease and fluidity in my life. The woman complained of pain which, the doctor decided, was due to either a kidney stone or appendicitis, and she was quickly sent to the hospital.

Although I had sincerely enjoyed interpreting, I could not see myself doing it as a career; it lacked the critical thinking and intellectual challenges I loved in my science classes and research. I was sure I wanted to go into medicine, but I was still uncertain of the exact role I wanted to play. Driving home that night however, I was completely elated. Every one—the physician, the nurse, and the rest of the staff—had worked seamlessly as a team to treat the patient as quickly as possible. Most of all, however, I was impressed by the way the physician specifically had led the medical team, not only with speed, but with true care, concern, and professionalism. Although funds were tight, I had often seen this physician make the most out of difficult circumstances. I had seen him consult with other physicians about difficult cases and had seen other physicians approach him with their questions. To me, he epitomized resourcefulness, compassion, and humility, and I admired him. After that night, there was simply no doubt that the role I wanted to play in medicine was the physician. My experiences volunteering in the ED and in gastroenterology in Poland and shadowing in the ICU further confirmed to me that more than anything, this was the right path for me.

My pride cost me the tournament that day, but the following week for the state tournament, I stood on the same tees, facing the same hole—the same trees, the same water, and the same bunkers, remembering what had transpired the week before. This time though, I knew better. When others pulled out their drivers, I pulled out my iron. If I am fortunate enough to be accepted to medical school, I know that classes, patients, and rotations will prove tremendous challenges; I fully expect this to be the most difficult thing I have ever done. However, although a long, risky drive may be flashy and impressive, I have learned to manage the courses I play, and in doing so, discovered who I am.

Analysis

Agatha opens her essay with a descriptive anecdote from a district golf tournament she lost. At first, the vivid recounting has no obvious connection to any of Agatha’s medical experiences, so she leaves the reader curious to find out how the story will connect to the rest of her essay. However, as she transitions into her next paragraphs, it becomes evident that the themes of humility, persistence, and self-growth present in this introductory anecdote will be central in her path to medicine.

In the body of her essay, Agatha describes her experiences as an interpreter at an urgent care clinic. She takes readers through her feelings of failure and self-doubt and displays a vulnerability that allows them to empathize with her journey of self-discovery. Her descriptions also highlight her introspective nature and her ability to reflect, reason, and learn from her difficult moments in her life.

Agatha concludes the essay by returning to her initial anecdote and reminding readers of how she has grown from the person she was at that golf tournament. In doing so, she effectively relates the sense of resilience and drive she carries as a golfer to how she will approach medical school and her medical career.

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