M1 at Weill Medical College of Cornell University
Felipe Souza Camelo
TL;DR
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First generation child of South American immigrants
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Latinx in Medicine
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Took 1 gap year
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Importance of work-life balance
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Underrepresented in Medicine (URM) experiences in medicine
Update: FEB 2021
When one enters the profession of medicine, there comes privilege: the privilege of momentarily ignoring our political climate and instead immersing yourself in your studies, the privilege of premium student health insurance that won’t cost you an arm and a leg, and the societal privileges of studying medicine. During my first semester, all of these privileges became obvious to me. When I became exhausted of hearing about another unarmed Black person dying from police brutality, I was privileged enough to shift my attention to learning about metabolic regulators instead. The hearing loss I have had since I was ten years old? My student insurance nearly fully covered my recent cochlear implantation surgery and rehabilitation. These are just a few of the privileges that come with entering this profession and I have to acknowledge them. Communities of color do not have this privilege of easily channeling out the daily racism they experience. Underinsured individuals aren’t so lucky to have life-changing procedures for a low cost or easy access to world-renowned physicians next door. Once you enter the medical profession, it can be incredibly easy to forget these privileges since you are constantly surrounded by other professionals with more or less the same privileges. My classmates and I all came from different backgrounds, but we must acknowledge that we now all share this same privilege.
Despite a rocky year with an escalating political climate and my personal struggles of hearing impairment during a time of mask-wearing, I try to appreciate the positive things. Although a virtual medical preclinical curriculum was challenging, I feel as though I have mastered a healthy work-life balance. I strive to set time for myself by going to the gym or running daily, while keeping up with the rigors of medical school. Something that many medical students (and especially premedical students) forget to do is to take the time to take care of themselves. With a true Pass/Fail curriculum, I much rather get my eight hours of sleep and go to the gym daily than sacrifice either of those for a couple of extra points on my assessments. It is important to master this skill, preferably prior to starting medical school, since studying medicine is difficult. However, it would be worse if I wasn’t going for my lifts, my runs, or taking the time to cook my food. If you don’t take care of yourself, how can you possibly expect your patients to do the same?
With the start of the spring semester, I feel I have successfully gotten into the groove of preclinical. I am excited to start in-person clinical activities this semester to learn some practical skills. What I am most excited for though is my personal journey regarding my hearing impairment and my cochlear implementation and rehabilitation. Adding this on top of my current routine may be a challenge, but ultimately something I am sure will improve my quality of life. As I have said before, it is important to take care of yourself instead of sacrificing every waking moment to medicine.
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The MRI machine was blaring and, at ten years old, I was frightened and on edge, despite undergoing three previous scans that summer. I could not tell what was louder: the tinnitus or the machine. I felt frustrated when I left the MRI room, and I was hoping the doctor would finally be able to explain my condition. I was prepared to translate the conversation between my parents and my provider, but when the doctor walked in and spoke in Spanish, I was surprised. I always had to translate between my parents and physician, or anyone outside the family. The physician explained to my parents that my neurons were severely damaged, and I would unlikely be able to hear in my left ear again. My parents and physician effectively communicated, and I was shocked at how easily my parents could ask them questions, such as why this suddenly happened to me. Usually, I was the only one speaking to the physician due to the prominent language barrier. My parents asked questions that I, at ten years old, could not think of myself, such as options of a hearing aid. I, for once, was not burdened with the task of translating for my parents. The tinnitus I still have today reminds me of that physician and the beginnings of my aspiration to go to medical school.
Background
I grew up in Peabody, MA (north of Boston) in a trilingual home and the son of two immigrant parents, both from South America. Growing up, I never expected to go into medicine, since I did not think that the route was realistic for me. In high school, I always pushed myself by taking Honors and AP classes with a sense of wanting to perform the best that I could achieve. While working a part-time job, juggling cross country and other sports and activities, I always made an effort to push myself and do the things that I enjoy. Looking back at it now, what I most struggled with in high school was finding out what was possible, and what was not. Being a first-generation American, and a future first-generation college graduate, I navigated all the obstacles myself. This included the SATs, challenging myself with challenging courses, the dreaded FAFSA (financial aid form), and then finally matriculating to my undergraduate university. When I took the SAT, I did not study the first time, and the second time, I struggled to figure out how to study and where to find free resources. I used some random websites that I found googling, but I acknowledge that I was incredibly lucky in everything just working out. With enough effort and sheer luck, I was able to gain admission to Johns Hopkins University for my undergraduate studies. For someone who may be on the fence about applying to elite and prestigious universities for fear of cost or not being good enough: it does not hurt to at least apply, and a lot of these prestigious universities have financial aid packages that make it cheaper than some in-state schools.
UNDERGRAD
Prior to the start of my journey at Johns Hopkins University, I always had medicine in the back of my mind, but I never was fully dedicated until a few years into my undergraduate career. In high school, I thought it was silly of me to even think I could become a physician. I knew that it took a lot of skill and privilege to be able to be successful enough to get into a good undergraduate school and then get into medical school. Because of that, I always thought that I would go into research since I loved learning new things, dating back to my days in high school chemistry lab. However, what I soon learned is that the role of a physician is multifaceted. That is, it isn’t as simple as just “helping people” and curing patients and diseases. Physicians work as innovative scientists, community leaders, and so much more that makes the career as a physician the most ideal for my interests and aspirations. My desire to also be a community leader sparked after volunteering at a Spanish-speaking clinic where I was able to interact with Latinx patients and help them with some of their social aspects of health, including food insecurity and documentation status. These interactions allowed me to reflect on my experiences as a child and see how much minority physicians can do to inspire others that come from similar backgrounds. These activities and encounters during my undergraduate solidified my desire to become a physician.
At Hopkins, it was challenging to integrate into an environment that was filled with the smartest of the smart. Oftentimes, I struggled to find students that came from similar backgrounds as me: Latinx, low socioeconomic status (SES), worked throughout high school, first-generation. It really showed me that although I may have not come from a privileged background, I was still so lucky to have all these opportunities and resources available to me. I often felt as if I had to prove myself when I was comparing myself to my classmates. That was toxic. I sacrificed my health, mentally and physically, all for minor rewards. I told myself I would never do that again in medical school.
Gap year
During my one gap-year, I moved back home to Northeast Massachusetts and lived at home so I could work and save some money while applying to medical school. I scribed in Family Medicine and Dermatology departments full-time and later worked on a research project with my old Hopkins lab. Working clinically in a predominantly white area was incredibly eye-opening as I was exposed to the reality that my qualifications will always be questioned. That is, some patients (or even superiors) will make microaggressive comments, or sometimes even be blatantly racist. I remember one interaction distinctly where after my physician introduced me to the patient and explained my role to “work the paperwork,” the patient had jokingly asked, “does he have papers?” This was one of a handful of interactions. Admittedly, they can be hurtful, but it is important to remember that I am stronger than this. I don’t need to prove myself to anyone. This is the reality for us Underrepresented in Medicine (URM) students is that we face, and will continue to face. There will be subtle and not-so-subtle forms of racism and other discriminations but it is crucial that we remember why we are pursuing medicine and to continue working to change the system.
Now, I am in my first semester at Weill Cornell and am loving medical school. I love all the content and love learning so much about medicine and the human body. Because of my challenging experiences in undergrad, I feel I am better able to prioritize both my health and the activities that truly inspire me to become a culturally-competent physician. Part of me is glad I went to a stressful undergraduate school since I now have the tools to better manage my stress and have developed critical life skills that will make me a successful and healthy physician. It can be difficult since we are virtual, but once I head out into the clerkships and can do meaningful clinical work, I know it’ll be worth it. Medicine is a long road, and I strongly encourage those who are interested in pursuing it to find reliable mentors that they can trust to help guide them.
