Dun, dun, dunn. If you haven’t yet picked up on it, I don’t want to be a doctor anymore. And aside from all of the reasons why I want to note that this is an expressive piece and not one drafted to discourage any pre-meds from pursuing their dream. The truth is, it’s not my dream. Maybe it was at some point not too long ago, but my first semester of college truly revamped my perception of most things. Soon enough, I was fairly aware of how selfish my goals were. There’s little wrong with keeping yourself in mind most times. You house your own thoughts and essentially rely on the voices inside your head to contribute to your actions, aspirations, and passions. So when I started to conceptualize about my future as a physician, I was left bitterly detached from the prospect like I’d never been before. I stumbled into a human rights open house at the Roosevelt House of Hunter College on a break between calculus and found myself captivated by a surge of inklings.

The first question I asked myself: Could I picture myself configuring titrations and recalling the details of thermodynamics for the next four years?

The second thought that rattled my brain: Am I in love with the idea of achieving prestige -- having an M.D. trail behind my name?

The third: Am I really smart enough?

And suddenly, I was overwhelmed with a sense of true deliberation, one I hadn’t imagined that I’d take on. In the summer of 2013, I took on the role of a microbiology assistant at Kaiser Permanente in Georgia. For hours on end, I would plate and distinguish bacteria and aid in the diagnosis process. Doing the work made me feel as if I was a part of something far greater than what it seemed at the beginning. At the closing of the work day, I would sort hematology samples and spin them down in a centrifuge. I prodded at the machine on a daily basis and stared at cells directly affected by leukemia. The following summer allowed me the opportunity to act as a Visiting Scholar at the Feinstein Institute for Medical Research. My science research career intensified when I delved into the role of the microenvironment in B-Cell chronic lymphocytic leukemia. I was thoroughly studying T-cells, performing enzyme-linked immunosorbent assays and carrying out ficoll gradient separation alongside two intensely driven students and the mentorship of Dr. Barbara Sherry.

We shared a series of laughs together and spoke of our impending senior year of high school; our progress on The Common Application and future medical school goals. All of it seemed incredibly real. Thankfully, we all went on to compete in our respective science competitions such as NYSEF, LISEF, and Long Island Science Congress -- some of us were lucky enough to place.

Frankly put, none of my experiences and all of the knowledge, accrued from my time spent vigorously pursuing what was once my dream, will disappear. I can still recall the smell of the outpatient center where most of the podiatry surgeries I observed took place. The amount of blood that I watched become slathered on the gloves of surgeons after performing a caesarean section will never fail to leave my memory. I can still calculate viability and mix a good buffer solution for the washing of ELISA plates.

You can imagine that I was able to answer the questions I began asking myself after reconsidering all that I had done thus far. So when I realized how passionate I am regarding human rights,

writing to convey a sense of the world through my eyes and actively taking a stand against injustices, whether it be through language or activism, I promptly enrolled in courses that would ignite what was burning within me.

I have successfully removed myself off of the pre-med track and I am currently pursuing a degree in political science with a concentration in human rights. Many have urged me to continue writing so I could potentially author a novel some day soon. So I am heeding to all of the dreams that live inside me now because they’ve managed to live inside me for the time I’ve known here on Earth (for as long as I can remember). I didn’t “drop” anything, I simply realigned myself with all that keeps me going. And if you disapprove or find yourself surprised about how I’ve made such a “dire” decision, then let me show you what I plan to do. You’ll end up being surprised then, too.