My parents tell me I learned to dream on my own. While my childhood friends played house, I imagined myself singing and dancing on Broadway.  In 2001 my mother helped me move to New York City, taking me one step closer to achieving my dream. 

While living in the Big Apple, I worked in a gym as a personal trainer to pay the bills.  Although I disliked personal training, I cherished the homework the fitness manager assigned.  As I studied muscular anatomy and aerobic verses anaerobic fitness, I found myself developing new dreams.  Instead of picturing myself winning a Tony Award, I imagined myself understanding the multiple facets of the human body. 

One rainy April night on the phone with my mother, I told her how my dreams had changed from stardom to medicine.  Two months later my dad helped me load up a moving van and he drove me to Guilford College in Greensboro, North Carolina.  During the road trip my father told me about my grandfather’s aspirations to become a doctor and how the Great Depression kept my grandfather from his dream.  My father insured me that medical school was possible; I just needed to be accepted. 

Even with the goal of attending medical school, my parents constantly remind me to make the most of my undergraduate education.  I wanted to work hard for every grade on my transcript. My college education redefined the way I look at the world.  Guilford allowed me to continue my love of theatre by performing in four shows over the past three years, as well as filling general requirements through theatre based English classes.  By studying science and theatre side by side, my dream has once again morphed. 

I now imagine myself giving back to the theatre community.  Throughout my life theatre taught me how to memorize quickly, perform under pressure, be organized, and work in an ensemble.  While living in New York I saw the struggle of the performing artist, a career pledged with temporary health insurance and constant injury.  Following medical school, I aspire to receive a residency in orthopedic surgery.  During my residency I plan to recruit people to help me fund raise for a performing artists' non-profit physical therapy clinic. Eventually, I intend for the clinic to offer vocal rehabilitation, nutritional and dieting counseling, and anatomy and physiology education for choreographers.  The availability of Pilates and yoga instruction not only provide cash flow for the clinic, but also a long-term rehabilitation option.  The yoga classrooms will provide a space for master classes in “performing while injured,” because pain doesn’t stop a dancer from dancing.  With enough fund raising, eventually I look forward to setting up scholarship grants for orthopedic surgery patients.  The scholarship will allow artists to apply for financial aid through their recovery time, permitting the patients to pay rent, buy food, and afford cabs to their physical therapy appointments.  The clinic will offer dancers, singers, and stage combat technicians a chance to find and maintain physical health, giving them more time to perform and less time spent waiting tables.

In the years between medical school and opening the clinic I plan to work with the impoverished of the United States.  My parents raised me to believe that all human beings deserve to be treated with dignity and respect.  For me, my parents’ lesson translated into an innate human right to health care.  I saw first hand the difficulties of treating the underprivileged during a summer internship at Methodist Hospital in Memphis, Tennessee.  My experience in Memphis only cemented my plans to work with the medically neglected population in this country.

My parents tell me I learned to dream on my own.  Luckily for me, my parents learned to be supportive of a daughter who could not stop dreaming.