Reflections at Reagan National

I was waiting in the airport, applying to medical school, and AMCAS asked me a very good question:

"What is the significance of your experience?"

The experience he was referring to, of course, was my volunteer work this summer at the women's shelter in Israel.

I tried clumsily to sum it up for the application:


Seeing the reality on domestic abuse on a daily basis completely changed the way I see the world. I began to see these "victims" of domestic abuse as victims of societies that prioritize honor over everything--including life itself. I saw how common domestic abuse is and how powerless I was to change that while working at the women's shelter.
I befriended many of the women and I adored the children. Because of the nature of the shelter, though, the families came and left unexpectedly. I never knew if my favorite women would be there the next day. I began to understand what it must be like for the ~40 children who spend months of their lives in that shelter.
Working with the three 15 year old girls had the biggest impact on me, however. We talked about race, racism, Ethiopia, Israel, President Obama, relationships, and regular teenage girl things like The Vampire Diaries. These young women taught me so much about strength and overcoming adversity. Their mothers were victims of domestic abuse, and that is why they were living in the shelter. However, they were determined to not experience the same cycle of abuse. They worked diligently on their English and other skills so they would be able to be financially independent as adults. It was an honor for me to know them and for me to help them for a summer.

But that isn't it.. is it? I couldn't tell AMCAS the true significance of this experience. I couldn't send this message to faceless people on the other end of the internet, flipping through thousands of medical school applications. I couldn't tell them how angry I feel when I think about the suffering I witnessed. I couldn't tell them that there was a Bedouin women who came to the shelter the last week I was there and she wouldn't look at anyone or speak to anyone, and then one day I asked her in broken Arabic "What's up?" and she cracked a smile. I couldn't tell them that the Ethiopian girls I worked with were the most beautiful people I've ever met, that they handled being 15 in a women's shelter in the middle of nowhere Israel better than I handled being 15 in picture-perfect suburban America in a loving, safe home.

I couldn't tell AMCAS that the reason I want to be a doctor is because I want to be alone in a room with a woman and recognize signs of abuse and be able to shut the door and speak with some authority and do something about it. I want to be able to perform reconstructive surgery on someone who has been forced to undergo FGM. I want to be able to give back some health autonomy to women who have never been allowed to make a choice for themselves. I want to give women CHOICES. I want to sit across from my patient and listen to her and have some expertise to be able to deal with what she is going through.

Because I felt fucking powerless at that shelter this summer.

I wasn't a social worker. I wasn't a director. I wasn't a volunteer coordinator. I wasn't anything!! I was a friend--and that meant something. But it wasn't enough and I need to be enough. That's why I need to be a doctor. It is selfish!! I can't help it. I need to be enough for someone.

I couldn't tell AMCAS that.