Failure to See by Kevin

Failure to See by Kevin - February 2017 Scholarship Essay

“I’m so sorry,” my once vibrant, amiable ophthalmologist, Dr. Lee, repeated, as I bawled in his office at only eleven years old.

Sometimes, we take the smallest things for granted; but how was I to know that small thing would be my now deteriorating vision. At a young age, I failed to see the evolving state of my eyesight, leaving my personal life laden with emotional and physical barriers.

“It’s called retinitis pigmentosa,” he continued. “Currently, there is no cure for this disease.” Disease. There’s a weight in that word. It was difficult adjusting to the strong prescription glasses, partially because they made me nauseous and gave me frequent headaches, but mostly because I knew that time was running out to do what I wanted to do. I realized I’d never get to live autonomously or even enjoy the sunset. I was devastated.

Of course I was.

It was not the first time I had failed. My best friend has been beaten up for being gay. Several of my childhood friends are now in gangs. My uncle’s girlfriend was shot and left for dead in the corner of my street. As irrelevant as these events may seem, I failed to combat the issues in my community and simply turned a blind eye to the adversity my people were undergoing. I chose to let myself wallow in self-pity for a long time, until I realized that I needed to combat my issues firsthand to see change.

I had previously found my strength through putting my efforts toward a better future. Losing my eyesight meant I might have to redefine what a future could be. My past trials had taught me how to be resilient, how to continue to pursue my dreams. This new trial focused these dreams. My diagnosis was the catalyst that started a new chapter: I now knew I wanted to contribute to scientific progress. With the knowledge that time with full vision might be scarce, I became even more focused on how I could be a positive influence on others, encouraging other students from similar backgrounds to take up careers in STEM.

With that goal in mind, I co-founded The Engineering Factory, dedicated to attracting more minorities to the STEM fields and motivating them to pursue meaningful careers. As a leader of the organization, I've organized presentations for elementary school students, in which I’ve discussed the significance of pursuing engineering and medical careers. Many students at the workshops have told us that before our workshops they felt discouraged to pursue careers in STEM, as they’d never seen people of color like themselves in such “high” positions. By the end of the workshop, many of the kids say that they’ve gained hope that they have a chance at being successful in the sciences. I am incredibly proud of my contributions to the Engineering Factory. Never having many people to motivate me to pursue my interests, it means the world being able to share my passion and inspire others.

I also learned about biomedical research myself. This past year, I embarked on a rigorous, year-long internship, the Samuels Family Latino and African American High School Internship Program (LA-HIP) at the Children’s Hospital of Los Angeles (CHLA). With assistance from my mentor, I analyzed that differentiated cells reduced as Crohn’s disease progresses, which could give researchers new insight in how to treat the illness. While at CHLA, I not only acquired professional lab skills and a new knowledge of Crohn’s disease, but also confidence in myself. Realizing I had the power to contribute to scientific progress, I became more secure in my abilities and passionate about pursuing research.

My diagnosis doesn’t control my life, but it has become a force in shaping my future. It has inspired me to pursue my own worthwhile career in support of STEM. Even if I’m not a surgeon, I can still contribute to the next generation of medical knowledge through research and by encouraging younger generations to find success in the medical field. I may not know what my future holds, but I’m more determined than ever to make a difference.