Doctor

“You are the kind of person who would become a great doctor someday.” My mother whispered these last words of goodbye, bidding me farewell as I approached the front door to go to school. The subject of my future, bound to be in a medical profession, seemed to always come up whenever I came into contact with her. I hated the idea of becoming a doctor because of the amount of work, effort, and time you had to invest. The idea of majoring in biology and attending graduate school just did not seem to interest me. I have always felt I have been forced to pursue this major in order to launch a career in the medical field and make myself a proud son. Stepping out of the house, I replied, “Of course mother,” and quietly closed the door behind me.

The day began like any other school day: crowded students trying to get to their lockers, talking to each other about the exams they took in first and second period, and trying their best to get to their third period classes on time.

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Finally, with all my strength, I was able to squeeze my way through to get to my biology class and take my usual seat just before the late bell rang. As I expected, we watched a short film on the materials we were going to learn next chapter, listened to the teacher’s lecture, and copied all the necessary notes from the white board. After several minutes, I looked up from my notes. The clock indicated 9:35 A.M. As I gave out my loud, daily sigh, my biology teacher decided to do something different; something she had planned last week.

She introduced us to two middle-aged gentlemen, one who was a dentist and the other a medical doctor. She told us they were going to lecture us about their accomplishments in their medical professions. I felt rejuvenated and excited about the opportunity to listen to someone else for a change. I wiggled around my chair to have a better view of the two gentlemen and tried my best to follow what they were saying. “When I first got to high school, I had no idea what I wanted to study in college. Honestly, I never thought I would choose to become a doctor until I met this guy in my senior year in high school. He talked to me about the medical field and how I can become someone who everyone respected.” Their stories began building small blocks of interest within me. I raised my hand numerous times, asking questions relating to their journeys and their medical profession. I listened closely, gathering every bit of information. Then, it was time for them to leave.

Now here I was, deciding what major I wanted to study; what I wanted to become. Without any hesitation, I choose to major in biology to become the respected doctor just like the two gentlemen who took the time to come and speak with us. This time I wanted to pursue this major, no one was forcing me to become who I did not want to become. This time, I was hundred percent sure what I wanted to do: I wanted to become a doctor, for myself.