By Jason Tran

 

As a child, I often looked to fables and fairy tales to learn about life’s lessons. Mulan taught me to always be myself. The Little Mermaid motivated me to swim towards my dreams. And Robin Hood inspired me to fight against evil, whatever that may be. Although plots like these were simple, they had the capacity to enlighten several generations of wonderers and dreamers across the globe. I, along with many others, grew up recognizing the power of a well-told story.

 

Now as an adult, I find my knowledge within another form of story-telling: research. People in this profession collect data to craft insightful papers, their own forms of stories. Having its own plot, climax, and conclusion, a published work can deliver profound discoveries for a greater humanity. During the summer of 2013, I was fortunate enough to be given the chance to write my own story and work alongside experts from the Harvard School of Public Health. For two months in Ethiopia, I conducted epidemiology research and learned about the reality of health disparities beyond pen and paper.

 

On a daily basis, I witnessed the effects of poverty on the human condition. Beggars had an emaciated physicality. Some were crippled while others revealed faint coughs and distraught miens. The peak of my emotions ran high when I saw a homeless man who had severe cuts across his legs, and signs of infection were visible. His eyes, though not gray in color, were gray with hopelessness. Native health experts also often revealed to me that “there [were] more Ethiopian doctors in America than all over Ethiopia.” I felt saddened by this fact but impassioned nonetheless. Living around poverty is so much more different than working with it. I began to realize that experiences like these motivate researchers to write their own stories. After all, public health aims to alleviate humans from suffering through illnesses and diseases.

 

I held steadfast to this ambition as I worked on my own specific project. From producing biostatical