Embracing Foolery

April Community Service Hours: 4

Spring Community Service Hours: 25

2016 - 2017 Academic Year Service Hours: 50.75

Was I a fool

To give my heart away

Was I a fool

To love a place I cannot stay

Was I a fool

For committing all of me

Was I a fool

For falling so freely

Standing in these familiar streets

Bidding farewell is so bittersweet

Because living in NOLA, studying pharmacology

Meant more than just earning another degree

From neuro, cardiac, and techniques in the laboratory

To renal, kinetics, and how replication remains error free

I am so in awe of our biology

Of this miracle that we simply call a body

How privileged I am to pursue this field

How much power this knowledge does wield

For upon this foundation I’ll go on to build

All my future clinical skills

So thank you, Tulane, for this wondrous year

Because of you, my path is finally clear

If this makes me a fool, then let me be

For I think you too agree

That this year has been too good to me

So I’m embracing this fabulous foolery

Dichotomy of Economy

In today’s world of economy

There is a startling dichotomy

Of the have’s and the have-not’s

Of those with little and those with lots

There’s those who stress over college tuition

And those who dream of college admission

There’s those who lament their tax bracket is too high

And those who are just barely getting by

There’s those who dispose of seasonal fashion

And those who depend on government ration

There’s those whose diamonds come from stocks

And those who propose with scavenged rocks

There’s those who object to pricey healthcare

And those who wait in emergency room chairs

There’s those who discard half their plate

Because, well, they’re conscious of their weight

But the food they’ve wasted so carelessly

Could’ve easily fed a family

So let us rid ourselves of all undue stress

There’ll always be those with more and those with less

Instead take a moment and appreciate

Pause to evaluate those gifts innate

The ones that create lasting impressions

Unlike our worldly possessions

Our inner self that makes us who we are

Stands apart from our clothes and our car

It proudly proclaims our identities

Without need of any amenities

Let us be more than what we own

And delight in the simple stones

Making Strides

“Hey, you coming in today?”

            Not recognizing the number, I asked “Who is this?”

            “Oh, sorry, Marjorie. Me and Jordan were wondering.”

            Marjorie! I’d met Jordan’s friend recently, who had taken the initiative and requested a tutor. Her text signified, at least to me, that I was making progress on a personal level. Warmth spread through me in waves, triggered by the knowledge that our sessions were not only needed but wanted. I replied back promising to show up next week.

            A large portion of my volunteering at Sci High, outside the academic aspect, lay in building a relationship with my students. More than helping them pass a class, my goal was to serve as a role model and kindle a love for learning. By applying classroom material to everyday activities, I emphasize that learning is not confined to the walls of their high school but is a lifelong pursuit. Slowly, they have begun to discuss their family lives, interests, and future plans such as college aspirations. This text, innocuous at first glance, exemplifies the comfort level they now feel, a sought-after achievement on my part.

            “Marjorie? I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

March community service hours: 6

Red Cross Disaster Relief

I don’t think reading and watching the news reports adequately prepared me for the sobering sight that greeted us as we drove through New Orleans East, the area most impacted by the recent tornadoes. Sheared telephone poles, tangled wires, bent metal, and felled trees were the common denominators between residential homes, gas stations and local businesses. The affected zones, though modest in size, suffered catastrophic damage. It was interesting to note that both intact and completely demolished structures stood side by side, hinting at the non-linear paths the tornadoes must’ve taken. We soon arrived at an intersection guarded by armed National Guard officers in charge of loot prevention, who immediately waved us through upon seeing the Red Cross logo emblazoned on both sides of our vehicle. As part of the disaster assessment team, our responsibility was to determine the degree of damage to each home in our assigned sectors. I was incredibly fortunate that Kurt, our crew leader, was a seasoned disaster relief responder who explained things I never thought to ask, thereby enriching my experience immeasurably.

            Thankfully, the streets we canvassed were in the penumbra, and as such they were spared from tangible loss. Still, I was awed by the morale the residents exhibited, each waving and smiling as we passed by. How terrifying it must’ve been to watch the winds tear through neighboring streets so mercilessly, wondering if your home was next! Even more humbling are the combined efforts of the Red Cross, FEMA and local groups all working altruistically towards the common goal of restoration, whether it be through damage assessment, repairs or meal provisions. It struck me anew that though New Orleans is no stranger to natural disasters, its inhabitants have again rebounded with remarkable vigor. Amidst houses on shifted foundations, rubble that was once a dwelling, and cars with shattered windows shines an indomitable spirit that is New Orleans, as evidenced by the unparalleled willingness of workers and volunteers alike to take rebuilding to task. What an absolute honor it was to partake in the relief efforts, to give back in my small way to this exceptional community.

February community service hours: 13

Caught Unaware

The initial drops were so gentle, so non-threatening that I decided against opening my umbrella. No thoughts were given to the darkening skies as I hurried from Sci High, where I’d been volunteering that morning, towards uptown Tulane campus, where I planned on catching the shuttle back to Deming Pavilion. The sudden torrential downpour came without warning so that by the time my slippery fingers successfully held the apparatus aloft, I was already drenched. Thunder and lightning became my companions, their rumbling voices taunting my legs to move faster despite the rutted walkways. My thoughts jumbled, and I wondered inanely if one was supposed to use an umbrella during lightning. Surely I would be struck? Or did that only apply to standing beneath a tree? My distress was compounded when tornado warnings from the Tulane emergency notification system sent incessant texts, instructing me to not leave class. Then came the phone calls.

“A tornado warning has been issued in your area, please remain indoors…”

I hung up each time. Frustrated, panicked, my only goal was to return to campus. When I finally arrived at my stop, I was informed that shuttle service was temporarily cancelled and given a number to call in two hours to check on the status. By this time, I wondered at my decision just hours ago to tutor. I marveled at the clear sunny skies of yesterday. I longed for dry clothes.

“Hey, we see you standing out here, would you like to come seek shelter with us?”

I turned to see a lady holding open the door to the Student Success office. Seek shelter? Is this for real?

“Exactly how serious is this tornado?” I asked as I followed her inside, where I was immediately taken to the back of the building to be with others who appeared to have also been caught unaware.

I discovered later, in my warm and dry room, that while my area was spared, others had not been so fortunate. Reports differ between the exact number of tornadoes that had touched down, but eight seemed to be pretty consistent. It saddened me to hear that the Ninth Ward, the neighborhood previously pummeled by Katrina, again suffered devastating damage. Thankfully, there were relatively few injuries and no loss of life.

Between answering concerned inquiries from families and friends and reassuring them of my well-being, I took a long hot shower, eradicating the chill from my bones. Then, at last, came blessed relief in the form of hanging up my wet clothes and putting away the umbrella that—surprisingly—survived the strong winds.

The In-Between

She greeted me with a smile, and that was all the encouragement I needed. Jordan and I easily slipped back into our routine of solving problems together, this time regarding the kinetics of chemical reactions. As it is one of my favorite topics, I tried to convey that same enjoyment to her. Admittedly, however, it is not the most intuitive, so we went through many examples. It was exceedingly pleasing to observe her enthusiasm grow proportionally to the ease with which she solved them.

            While elucidating this lesson, something unexpected struck. I had been explaining that though we may know a chemical reaction and even its equilibrium state, we are unable to determine the rate at which it had occurred with the equation as our sole informant. The chemical reaction given involves only the overall reactants and products, leaving out the intermediates in between. This is remarkably similar to all our paths. We may know our general direction, but it is impossible to predict the journeys each of us will take. I had expected to streamline from college to medical school, but here I am, somewhere I’d never imagined. And this journey has been so enriching, so full of experiences that I would never give up. I hope that as each of us continues down our respective paths, we keep in mind that each step is for a reason, and each turn holds a meaning. Because, unlike chemical reactions, the beginning and the end for us bear no significance without the middle.

January community service hours: 2