Abstract

I grew up on food stamps, unlike many of my medical school classmates. Prostitution and drug deals were regular occurrences in my neighborhood. A man was shot to death in front of my childhood home. After I left my hometown, I was finally able to heal from those devastating circumstances and build a safer life for myself. Difficult questions surfaced as I considered where I wanted to work as a physician. To gain more clarity, I chose to return to my hometown as part of a monthlong clinical elective. This experience facilitated vulnerable introspection. I learned to honor the fact that my hometown is a place of tenacious, struggling, beautiful people. I had to accept that while I experienced survivor's guilt, people are agents of change in their own lives. To serve others, I owe it to myself to be safe and heal my own wounds first. Ultimately, I decided I want to partake in the story of humanity's inexorable will to survive in the face of structural barriers.

Full Text
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