The True Feelings Of A Technical Immigrant

I was in 6 th   grade when I first   truly   learned about the atrocities of World War II. My reading teacher, Mrs. Rose a woman who normally bared a huge smile was somber and quiet when we read about The Holocaust. She told us how people didn’t believe it actually happened, how people went on into the world and refused that these crimes against humanity were taking place. I was shocked that people were letting these crimes happen and obediently following along. People had begun to turn a blind eye to their neighbor.    I couldn’t fathom how people went about their lives   knowing   others were dehumanized. I couldn’t even grasp the idea how there were men and women who believed that those camps were good, or chose to work for them. They felt justified in their hate.   But today? Today I sit here, and I can see it again. This time it isn’t a teacher telling me something that happened years ago, it’s the news telling me what’s happening in my own backyard. People ar

The other night I went to see Captain Marvel with some friends, as the end credit scenes began to roll, my friend showed me her phone and pointed to the headline “49 killed in mass shooting at two mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand”. My heart sank. I pulled up the article and skimmed it on my phone. I couldn’t believe what I was reading, but there was a pain in me, a loss.   The pain grew when I learned the first man to be shot said “Salam Brother” to the gunman. Salam Brother. This man’s last words were wishing peace and acknowledging the other as a brother. He did not question this man, he did not reject this man, he welcomed him. And unfortunately his open arms were met with gun shots. Had the gunman stopped to listen and to hear he would of learned the beauty of the religion. However, he had let his ignorance blind him, as have so many of us.  In an age of instant news we are constantly assaulted with headlines and short snippets of the from tweets, Facebook posts, or In

My MCAT is less than two weeks away, and needless to say I am stressed. The Medical College Admissions Test, a very simple name, for a very complicated exam.   Why am I stressed over one exam? Why does one 8 hour period of my life weigh so heavily on my mind? Why is it the constant thing on my mind, forefront before everything else? Why have I allowed myself to put everything on hold for this one exam?             Is it because I feel as if my entire future is dependent on this one exam? Yeah, probably. I have convinced myself that this one number will be the defining number of my life. I have decided that one number will be what represents me. A number will define a human being. A score, from one exam, will explain all my complexities. And I refuse to see how wrong that is. I refuse to acknowledge that a number will not define me, my actions, my thoughts, my hard work will, but a number will not.             Yet here I sit, overwhelmed and filled with anxiety all o