(2/2) “I got saved by my baseball coach. His father was a judge,...

(2/2) “I got saved by my baseball coach. His father was a judge, so he connected me to a powerful law firm. And they took my case pro bono. I was allowed to stay in the country, but I couldn’t qualify for student loans or financial aid. The only college that offered me a scholarship was Swarthmore. I flourished there: varsity sports, president of my class. I became a citizen while in med school. Initially I pursued pediatrics, but what I enjoyed most was talking to kids and parents. Especially the black and brown ones. So I switched to child psychiatry, and came home to the Bronx. All of our patients here are black and Latino. You can feel the tension ease the moment I walk in the room. They’ve seen nothing but white doctor after white doctor, and finally, someone who looks like them. Who grew up in their neighborhood. Who understands the struggle. They don’t have to worry about sounding uneducated, or dumb, or anything negative. Cause I know that’s just how we talk in the Bronx. My patients trust me. And I know how important that is, because I’m also seeing a therapist. I’m also trying to get comfortable in this world where no one looks like me. Sometimes I’ll be waiting for the parking attendant and a fellow doctor or nurse will hand me their ticket. Without a word. That’s happened twice or three times. It makes it so hard to not see my colleagues as barriers. They’re the gatekeepers. They’re the ones who approve the applications, and give the interviews. They’ve closed the door in my face so many times. Because my SAT score was too low. Or they thought my reading score was a reflection of my potential. They didn’t know my mom only finished third grade. Or how scared I was sometimes, just going to school. They don’t know that I was beat up on my first day of third grade. They don’t know how that changed me. They don’t know how hard it was for the rest of us. Because all they’ve ever known are the people who look like them, who grew up with them, and who made it here with them. They think it’s normal, that I’m the only one here that looks like me. They don’t see it as a problem. But I do. And our patients do, which is why they light up every time I walk in the room.”