Faces I’ll Never Forget

Emptying a drawer that for years had sat unsifted, I found old computer disks, a yellowed newspaper and a stack of senior photos of my first students. In our classroom in Watertown, Minn., these kids had watched me fumble with seating charts and desk arrangements, with lagging book discussions, with disrespect. And yet they wrote for me: poems and essays layered with declarations, confessions, errors and hope. I blinked over their bent heads, the sound of their shifting pencils speeding my heartbeat. Sometimes, one would glance at me. Yes, I’d want to say, I see you. I still do. — Emily Brisse

Why I Chose Medicine

“But you’re my doctor,” she said when I mentioned that the attending physician would soon be in to examine her. “And I ordered something special for you.” She unfolded a napkin on her breakfast tray. Inside lay single-serving packets of peanut butter and grape jelly, an ode to my professed love of the Smucker’s Uncrustables peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that had helped me get through my first year of residency. In that moment — after a harrowing year in the trenches of the pandemic — I remembered why I chose medicine. — Dr. Miriam Robin

Perfection in Hopes of Protection

Mothers and daughters often share a complicated relationship with hair. The desire for neatness can cause pain while expressing care. When I was young, I would protest when my Filipina mother curled my hair. It made her so frustrated that she would sometimes scream. Later, I would find her quietly crying behind my Barbie house. She never apologized, but her tears wiped the slate clean until the next tit for tat. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized she, an immigrant in a challenging country, wanted me to look perfect to protect me from the cruelty of the world. — Jacqueline Ostrowicki

Seven Years After the Sorority

We met at sorority recruitment, in tight dresses and heels. I didn’t join, but we stayed friendly. Seven years later we reconnected via Instagram DM — “Let’s catch up, it’s been forever,” she said. We met for drinks on a freezing November night. I was surprised to find my heart drop into my stomach whenever I looked at her. “Is this a date?” I finally asked. “Do you want it to be?” she replied. We kissed in Riverside Park. We slow-danced on the sidewalk. We looked back at our straight-sorority-sister-selves and laughed. Could we have ever imagined this? — Maddie Molot

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