My studies at the intersection of science and humanities allow me to acknowledge, appreciate, and question the contested histories of medicine, science, and research. These histories shed light on the humanity of science and medicine, and how truly listening to the stories of patients, scientists, and researchers is critical for creating long-lasting change.

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On a field trip to Westport, Washington during the chilly month of February for my CHID 480 course entitled ‘Waves of Knowing: Surfing and Empire in the Pacific,’ my professor, my classmates, and I all stood shivering in our wetsuits with surfboards under our arms. For the next three hours, we became immersed in the tranquility, power, and movement of the ocean. We rocked with the motion of the waves, cheered joyfully as we each caught our first ride, and reflected on the history and rituals of the sport of surfing and waveriding. In that moment, I knew that this is what learning looked like.

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My science courses seemed fact-heavy and objective. Once I stepped back and looked at the whole picture, I realized that science and medicine are nothing without the trials and tribulations of the individuals who contributed to those fields. I thus chose to pursue a dual degree in Microbiology and CHID. Microbiology continues to fuel my passion for learning about the world’s processes and organisms, but CHID allows me to explore the stories of humans. Through a combination of literature, film, and music analyses, CHID courses teach me about the beauty of human diversity and the importance of acknowledging individuals’ experiences.

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Throughout these past four years, as a global pandemic hit and school suddenly became less immersive, I struggled to maintain that fire of learning that I had cultivated in my CHID course. As I got further into my majors, though, I began to develop connections between the classroom and my personal life. I saw the ways in which microbiology was impacting the world through the COVID-19 pandemic. I witnessed how the pandemic continued to exclude the stories and rights of minority groups. In many ways, the pandemic allowed me to transition my learning from an academic setting to a personal setting. Learning does not just happen in the classroom. Instead, lifelong learning requires curiosity, determination, and passion within the daily joys, struggles, and interactions of one’s life. So, as I leave the UW and all of its amazing academic resources, I know that I now have the tools to continue pursuing knowledge within my everyday life.