Boy in Midwest suburbia. Came to Duke - he wanted to see the world.

Has he seen the world yet? Probably not.

Then I went to China last year. It was an incredible experience, one that I was hardly prepared for with all my fifteen years of American education. My identity was created while growing up in a Western culture which I took as my own. In China, I saw my heritage for the first time, the land and culture of my family. Both of my parents are now doctors here (which has exposed me to medicine to a great extent), having come across the world-they are the story of the working immigrant and his young family taking the risk in coming to America with not much more than faith and hope. They are major shaping forces in my life.

Across the ocean, I was in a completely different world, far from home yet feeling strangely at home, even with the language barrier. We played basketball with local teams and saw the sights (both pleasant and not) of cities and villages. We broke bread with new friends and listened to their life stories. The food was to my liking; the people were agreeable and of a homogeneous culture. I learned more about myself and the way I think from the Chinese people. Some of the values ingrained into them were much too familiar. They were so humble and serving, yet so proud of what they could call their own. Their simplicity was nobler than the pride I had built on ambition and intellectualism. I desired to serve the people of China. Working abroad among impoverished people excited me; it was worthwhile with no regrets.

And yet a hungry society lives in China, with needs to be filled physically and spiritually. Growing up in an affluent and rather blissful community, I realize that I still have much to learn about this world. For now, though, I am continuing my education, earning my biomedical engineering degree and pursuing my interests.

Music has suddenly become an integral part of my life. I am the musical director for an a cappella group, and I lead music at my campus fellowship and church. I think about where my music experience began. As a child, I was made to play an instrument while growing up; thus, I played the piano. The most jarring moment of my piano career was when my piano teacher bluntly asked, after I had successfully muddled my way through yet another unpracticed piece, whether I really wanted to learn piano. Busy schedules soon stopped the lessons for a summer break; months would go by and they never restarted. The test began, waiting to see what the lessons had been worth. Soon, I began to appreciate the classical training in piano. It allowed me to learn more independently and with more enthusiasm and passion; I was teaching myself new pieces and improvisations by my own accord-not by my parents. However, I had this foundation and ability to go forward only because of my parents. I began playing guitar, using previously learned theory and teaching myself up to a proficient level. Eventually it would lead to playing in and becoming accustomed to performance settings. Who knew I would reap these benefits from eleven years of disciplined piano lessons?

There is an underlying theme to this progression. I see this musical training as analogous to my education. As a child, I blindly walk through several grades, learning and being pushed by my parents to excel, to put forth my best effort at something I might have not wanted at first. Soon it becomes as natural as a habit, and it goes on unquestioned until I head off to college. Now on my own, my education is not appreciated until I take it up and truly own it; perhaps it is not until I am out of college that I will be able to claim it and begin to make use of the concepts and experiences I have learned here in college. Similarly, as my parents may have predisposed me towards medicine, I must claim it as my own and do it not because they encourage me to (which they do not push), but because I want it.

I have thought about other fields I could enter. I have fancied teaching, perhaps partly out of gratitude towards some of my amazing high school teachers, but stemming more from the fundamental desire to help people. A teacher's motivations are not far from that of the physician's, and even a researcher may be intent on bettering humanity. What I have found is that medicine does not necessarily exclude any of these career choices. For me, the educated intellectual is curious about learning the intricate details of medicine, the analytical engineer asks how to solve problems and make improvements, the concerned friend wants to build relationships, and the disciplined musician practices hard to perform well. I feel that these four traits complement each other quite nicely in my pursuit of medicine. A doctor heals not just bodies but the human spirit, and that is not just noble and impacting, but a worthwhile calling.

I have yet to see the world and see what I can do.