Just Another Personal History

Preface

Below is a version of an essay I submitted for my psychology PhD program applications. This was the first in a long time where I wrote honestly. It took a moment for my filters to be removed to the point where I felt unencumbered with crafting a story I thought people wanted to hear. During the process, I had to move past the hesistance I’ve always had when it came to fully sharing my thoughts or openly discussing the hard stuff in life.

For full transparency, I was writing for admission to highly competitive universities where I was competing against an unknown number of mysteriously, and most likely, much more qualified applicants. This essay is underpinned with the fact I was trying to distinguish myself as a unique individual and diverse candidate, when in actuality, discovery, change, and loss is a story almost anyone can tell.

However, I stand by the takeaways I outline in my story. Those are authentic, whether you choose to accept them or not.

Personal History & Diversity Statement

One year ago, I made the choice to step away from a dashed dream in law to fly three thousand miles to support my family in a time of illness and grief. Soon after I received a late night call detailing my stepmother’s prognosis and my dad’s health, I submitted my two week’s notice to my small New York City job and set my sights on arriving in California on October 31st, 2021. Any interest I had in pursuing a law career was thrown out the window. I would have to re-establish myself in a town much, much smaller than New York City. It took a few months to re-enter the job market, and an even longer time to think about my future as a professional. My own ambitions were overshadowed by the need to be an emotional and social support for my father and my half- and step-brothers.

Over the past year, I’ve stepped in as a caregiver for my younger brother, volunteered in preparing taxes for low-income families, worked three jobs, and met new friends. With the pressures placed upon me, exploration was key to my sanity. I wanted to get to know the community which had unexpectedly become my new home. I was determined to find work that would illuminate my next steps professionally. I had to learn how to build out a social support system from scratch. In the midst of all this chaos, I would have never thought I would be applying to a doctorate program this time last year.

Looking back, the decision I made was the right one. The thought of moving into a grief-stricken situation was daunting. However, I knew that in life there are defining moments when it’s important to show up for your family. For me, this was one of those moments. In the wake of grief, I started to think about what was truly important to me, and what my future held.

Prior to this year, I wasn’t sure whether a career in research was the right path for me. Psychology has always been highly of interest to me ever since the first class I took during sophomore year of high school. But to take the leap into pursuing an academic career? I was scared to take a chance on myself, even though I’ve been preparing for this next step my entire adult life. Now I’ve realized what I’ve always known: I can always find my footing after a fall, as long as I have the right people around me to lift me back up.

Undoubtedly, I would not be in the position I am now without the support of my family. The opportunities and privileges I have because of the hard work and identities of my parents have been invaluable. The three thousand miles I traveled is a drop in the bucket compared to the nearly ten thousand miles my mother and grandmother traveled to enter the U.S. in the aftermath of the Vietnam War. My father, who came from a poor white family, woke at 4:30 am each day to work a job that would help him pay his way through his bachelor’s degree. When I look up to my parents, I see their lives have been defined by the choices they made and the opportunities afforded to them. Life has always been consistently uncertain for my family, but their drive and perseverance are what led to me being where I’m at today.

Rather than thinking of my next steps in terms of what I want, I’ve started thinking about what I owe to others, what others have sacrificed for the opportunities I have, and what I can best offer to the world. I hope to offer a unique voice in the field of psychology, not only because of my background, but because I earnestly believe the takeaways we could pull from studying moral development can make a meaningful difference, small or large, in the life that we share with others.