"Then I guess sometimes blessings are thrown at us" by Kingsley

"Then I guess sometimes blessings are thrown at us" by Kingsley - August 2016 Scholarship Essay

In a somewhat turbulent period in my life, during which I was still adapting to life in America and striving to fit into my adoptive family, while aiming to establish myself as a top tier student in DeWitt Clinton High School, I found myself “thrown” into an Elective course entitled Narrative Medicine. “Thrown” was the word I chose in describing my disappointment my friend, Ezekiel, prior to the start of first semester of Junior Year. I had wanted AP Chemistry in its stead.
NARRATIVE MEDICINE, the instructor- Miss Stanley- inscribed boldly on the white board, and with a tinge of a smile boasted to us that our lives will change by the end of the semester. I sat sulkily in the back row and prematurely concluded that yes she will change my life by wasting four months of my time!
“Humanity,” she remarked, “is the backbone of this course; diversity is the driving force our discussions; and empathy is the supreme goal for the next four months.” She then told us a story. It was a story about compassion, understanding and confidentiality, which centered around a doctor whose enviable career was not defined by the number of successful surgeries she performed, but by the patient-centered, individual-oriented and selfless approach to providing healthcare to her patients. The morale of the story, as Miss Stanley pointed out, was the respect for individuals, the acknowledgement of diversity and the empathetic view of others. With this story, it dawned on me that neither physics nor my personal favorite, Chemistry, has struck a chord in me quite as intense as this story. It was the beginning of both an academic revival and a much-needed personal introspection.
Growing up in Ghana, I had been used to an environment where nearly everyone shared a similar heritage, upheld the same values, possessed a dark skin tone, and practiced the same culture. Therefore, as a seventeen-year-old immigrant, I was struggling to understand why the people around me acted the way they did or held beliefs unlike mine. However, with Miss Stanley’s education about the significance of diversity, she opened my mind and my eyes to a whole new reality that it is our differences that plunge us into heights previously considered unreachable. She often said that “the underlying principle of nature itself is diversity-until one realizes this, one will knowingly or unknowingly, be condemned to live as a mere shadow of the person one could have been had one appreciated diversity.” These words have become central to me ever since. I began embracing diversity and made efforts to learn the ways of others. This smoothened my transition from a relatively closed mentality to an open and more inclusive one. With this hurdle of communal self-identification overcome, I started soaring in my overall education in America, leading me to become valedictorian.
Narrative medicine- which in my own words, is described as the course to improve healthcare by enhancing and promoting more humane treatment of patients ahead of the stringent emphasis on scientific, and structured approach- also saved my home. As an adopted young man, who had come to America to live with a new family, the course taught me to transform myself and learn ways to thrive in my family. More importantly, it taught me that my transformation should not interfere with staying true to who I am. Miss Stanley would say, the doctor had a fruitful career because inasmuch as “she put herself in different people’s shoes in order to serve them well, she never forgot to wear her own shoes in walking from one patient to the next… If you forget your own shoes, you walk barefooted.” Once I understood these invaluable lessons toward a satisfying life, I did not have to feel as though I were running from home. I made myself comfortable; with that came along lots of secured time to suitably study at home. From that time forward, I have not wavered in my quest for academic success.
Perhaps, the most significant benefit of Narrative Medicine was the instilment of a more matured and dignifying view of every other class I have taken since. Be it Biology, US History, Fine Arts or Writing for Sciences, I have endeavored to think of it in these terms: How do these ideas, concepts, events, or processes benefit society? Or what do these tell about us? Or simply, yet profoundly, how can it be made better? My goals have never been principally focused solely on grades, but on the essence of what I am studying. Miss Stanley said to us at the end of the semester, “I tried to teach you to become better people, for I believe that if one can live to be a better person, then living to be a better student becomes a million times easier.” I am the testimony that she was right.
So during my graduation, I went to her, hugged her and admitted to her that she really did change my life in ways unimaginable and I am eternally thankful to her. Then, I approached my friend, Ezekiel and told him that I was blessed to have taken Narrative Medicine. He stared at me, and mockingly said, “then I guess sometimes blessings are thrown at us.” I laughed.