Bouncing Back from Failure – My Journey to Medical School

My story begins with this quote from a sixth-grade teacher in a classroom: “All you do is disrupt my teaching; you won’t succeed in life!” After hearing this, I wrestled over these words over and over, thinking to myself, am I fit to continue in school?

In elementary school, I read below my grade level and continuously fell behind the rest of the class. My self-esteem plummeted as I watched the rest of the students pass their tests and receive compliments for their good behavior. My fifth-grade educators observed this, so they hired a learning specialist to evaluate any learning or behavioral deficiencies I potentially had. Unfortunately, the specialist misdiagnosed me with a severe attention deficit disorder, which resulted in my placement into special education during my sixth-grade year. Each time I was dropped off at school, I quickly covered my head with a hoodie and ran into the special education room because I feared being ostracized by classmates and friends. In the classroom, the educator ordered me to stay quiet, finish worksheets, and listen to audiobooks at a small corner desk for an hour. Because of the inadequate support, I often became frustrated and refused to finish my work. My last bit of confidence was shattered, as well as any desire I had to perform. 

As my report cards reflected these poor experiences, I involved myself in small gangs in middle school. I sought out a sense of belonging outside the classroom. Some of my peers had relatives involved in local gangs; they saw this lifestyle as the only way to survive their youth. From selling weed on school grounds to fighting in the bathrooms, I began to follow their example, and eventually I was encouraged to transfer to an independent study program for high-risk youth.

Fortunately, the independent study provided me the opportunity to believe I could do well in school. An educator named Mr. Russell noticed my reserved demeanor in the back of the classroom. He was the first educator to instill a sense of hope in my life. He met with me one-on-one, for as long as I needed, to help me understand class concepts and he related his life to my upbringing and life experiences. His encouraging words were a breath of fresh air. Due to his influence, the impossible became possible: I received my first A on my report card. After much effort and struggle to become a better student, I decided I could return to public high school.

When I entered high school, I received the correct diagnosis of an Audio and Visual Processing Disorder. These learning disabilities provided deep understanding as to why as a kid I struggled to read and comprehend books. Growing up, it would take me as long as five to ten minutes to read a single page. It also helped me understand why it was difficult to pay full attention to my teachers. Their voices were muddled by the sounds of clicking pens and side conversations, which typically led to teachers being frustrated by my inability to follow their instructions. I was astounded to see how an accurate diagnosis transformed my self-image and gave me hope for the future. With the right resources, I spent hours each night on learning and audio activities to adapt to my disability. With the support of my parents and providers, I regained confidence, excelled in school and took my therapy seriously. My learning disability, which was once my biggest insecurity, eventually became a point of strength. 

Attending UC Davis for undergrad, and then matriculating to an MD/PhD program at Stanford Medical School has been far from easy. With my learning disability, I’ve had to read over assignments twice and make sure to sit up front in the classrooms to ensure I hear the professor with full attention. In college, I met one-on-one with learning specialists and the accommodations team at the Student Disability Center to develop learning strategies and advocate for my needs in an academic setting. For example, a separate testing environment made it possible for me to maintain focus during exams. Most notably, studying for the Medical College Assessment Test (MCAT) was challenging. The long and complex passages and questions challenged my ability to comprehend. I resorted to taking the MCAT twice because of the various learning obstacles I encountered. Although I did not use accommodations for the MCAT, I continuously found ways to adapt. I practiced timing myself while reading through the local newspaper or online articles. Eventually, when it came to the MCAT, the passage lengths and difficulty became a lot easier to manage.

Throughout medical school, the same tools and skills I used to succeed through college and on the MCAT helped me perform well in my classes. I continue to work with learning specialists to ensure I utilize my strengths and stick to what works for me. For instance, I space my studying out a couple of weeks before my exams to ensure I am not overwhelmed and understand the classroom material. I also find it very helpful to have a study partner to exchange ideas with and fill in any gaps in my knowledge.

Despite these victories, I still experience the same sense of imposter syndrome and broken self-esteem I once felt as the twelve-year old confined to audiobooks in special education. I still have to practice managing these feelings. I realize the range of emotions varies daily, which is certainly more than acceptable.

Marrying success with failure is a critical learning experience I encourage myself to remember every day. Learning to use everyday failures to bounce back helps me in and outside medical school. Although academic failure has been a dominant theme in my life, I keep pushing forward and refuse to let any one individual’s assessment of my potential stop me from achieving my goals. The initial difficulties I faced in school taught me resilience that will ultimately make me a better doctor, scientist, friend and advocate for others.