As an Indian woman on a pre-med track, I can’t help but feel like my path is unoriginal. My dream had its built-in checkpoints‒if I just followed what other successful students did and worked my ass off over the semester, I’d be able to “make it.” But honestly, what the hell does making it even mean? If making it meant late-night study sessions at the Union, nervous breakdowns in the dingy Chem building before exams, little time for personal hobbies, and an overall sense of exhaustion just to feel some modicum of relief after getting an above-average grade in a class, then sure, I guess I’m making it.
Read More