Diversity

My parents introduced me to the significance of diversity — inadvertently. They were creating an online dating profile for my sister, who, apparently, is rapidly approaching spinsterhood in her late twenties. My parents were blunt: My sister’s date had to be Indian, with a family similar in caste to ours. That’s when it became clear there were explicit divisions between what my parents and I believed made for lasting relationships. While they never dictated my friendships, they would often comment on my lack of Indian friends. Since I was 6, I have spent hours learning Indian classical dance with Indians my age, embracing the culture of my motherland. Yet my floundering attempts at getting in touch with my heritage through Indian movies and dance only made my parents hope for more. As much as I wanted to conform to their beliefs and become the quintessential Indian daughter they desired, I struggled with the challenge of becoming someone I wasn’t, in a culture that stressed individuality.

My friends taught me to embrace the differences between us. My daily life is a hybrid of multicultural perspectives. Surrounded by a group of friends whose family names range from Yamawaki and Kim to Bohra and Jotwani to Kristec and Benham, I have learned the correct method of holding chopsticks, the do’s and don’ts of making hot pot, why Panda Express is not authentic Chinese food, and how to correctly pronounce pho. The vibrant experiences I have been exposed to have taught me that it is impossible to truly grow and develop personal connections without embracing the differences inherent in us. The perspectives and opinions we are exposed to help us to develop our own ideas, driving innovation.

The increasingly innovative field of neurology has shown me what is possible when different people and ideas come together. Neurology is a rapidly expanding field, generating newer, more diverse, and more specialized treatments, such as the Brain Mapping Initiative, which will help doctors determine treatments based on real models of patients’ brains. It is comforting to know that some of the most deadly brain diseases could be treated through progressive techniques, such as minimally invasive endovascular surgery. When I become a neurosurgeon, I want to use treatments like these to help impoverished Indians who cannot afford medical care.

Science has always been the lens through which I have observed the world, and it has shown me a different side of diversity. Evolution teaches us that all humans evolved from the same organism. Our bodies function in the same way. Our hearts beat, our neurons fire and our lungs breathe in air, and yet, we are different. Each one of us has individual gene combinations, brain functions and cellular mixtures that merge together to form a unique person. My excitement for science helped me appreciate the natural differences between us and their importance in sustaining life. Adaptation is key.

Dance taught me an important lesson in adaptation. Initially, I was opposed to the structure that defines Kathak, unable to get comfortable with its stern movements. Yet my enthusiasm for the dance began to grow as I discovered the innate grace hidden among the rigid movements. I began noticing the fluidity of each step, how clearly it fell into place among the others, and how each movement was unique, clearly discrete from the others. Combined, however, the steps formed a beautiful picture. Dance has shown me the importance of combining individual parts to create a beautiful whole.

While I am no longer blind to the differences between people, or ideas, I remain grateful that I can also see the commonalities. These similarities unite us, but our differences make us individuals, unique in our personalities. In the future, when treating patients, I will remember the lessons of diversity to better empathize with patients, develop human connections and adapt to my surroundings.