article, a pit began to form in my stomach. The words on the page felt like they were written in a foreign language. As I re-read them, I felt myself falling back into my seemingly never-ending war with words and letters. I was losing, yet again. And then, for the first time in my academic life, someone noticed. Dr. Williams saw how hard I was struggling. He could see me become visibly upset and frustrated with myself, on the verge of tears. He told me that it was okay and gave me a new game plan: I would try and read an article for 30 minutes a day, following an outline that he created. Over the course of 10 meetings, Dr. Williams and I would review one article per meeting. Every time I struggled to grasp the concepts; he patiently re-explained the material in different ways, always encouraging and never condescending.
During the tenth meeting, I realized I had finally learned how to read an article critically. I proudly showed him my annotations, and then we spent two hours dissecting every graph, every result and discussing their broader implications. When we wrapped up, he beamed and said,“ I am so proud of you. I know how much effort you put in, and you never gave up.” His proud smile and encouraging words offered a level of support I had never experienced before and reminded me that my persistence mattered.
This experience was transformative for me. Unlike previous encounters with educators who dismissed my struggles – despite their transparency – Dr. Williams’ unwavering support created a safe space where I felt comfortable asking any question. It was the first time I truly felt valued and encouraged in my academic journey. That simple act of patience, kindness and understanding altered the trajectory of my career.
This adventure picked up speed once I’ d observed him in the OR. I loved watching his surgeries. The first time I witnessed a patient’ s brain pulsate, I was immediately enamored by its natural beauty. I realized that Dr. Williams did not recreate elegance: he restored it, preserving the intricate perfection that already exists. His pituitary surgeries soon became my favorite to observe because I recognized a stark contrast between the near-consistent surgical approach to accessing a pituitary tumor and the variability in both the tumor resection and its physical appearance. This unpredictability brought a unique energy and intrigue to my experience. It fostered a curiosity that made me realize I wanted to pursue neurosurgery just like Dr. Williams.
I fondly recall one of our research meetings where I once naively commented on his surgical technique, completely unaware that it was terribly inappropriate. Yet months later, that very remark unexpectedly sparked laughter. My comment was spurred after reviewing my notes( quickly sketched images, in a step-by-step manner, of what I had perceived from his surgeries). It was something I did almost
mindlessly in the moment. When prompted to discuss them by a peer, I realized I didn’ t have a clear-cut answer on why I sketched my notes, other than it just felt right. Now curious of my own style of note taking, I asked Dr. Williams if drawing images was uncommon for students. He chuckled and said“ Well, sometimes, Arshi, we happen to be better at some things than we are at others. You were way ahead of me when I was at your age.” His response stuck with me. It was the first time someone had framed my learning differences not as a deficit, but as a unique way of thinking. From that day on, every time I encountered a difficult concept, I reminded myself of these same words. The next time I shadowed Dr. Williams in the OR, right as he finished, he looked towards me and said,“ Simple, right, Arshi?”
Over time, Dr. Williams did not just become my mentor; he became my advocate. He pushed me, challenged me and believed in me even when I doubted myself. Under his guidance, I have written case reports, manuscripts, research proposals and was accepted into multiple competitive summer research programs. When I faltered, he reminded me of how far I had come. He never lowered the bar for me. Instead, he made each bar higher but also gave me the tools to reach it.
Even now, after completing multiple courses with him in my undergraduate and master’ s degrees, he continuously encourages me and pushes me to accomplish my goals. He played an instrumental role in helping me achieve my dream of being accepted to medical school. Dr. Williams became the first educator in my STEM career that fostered a supportive and inclusive environment, ensuring I could engage with the material in ways that resonated with me: a teaching approach for which I remain deeply grateful. I aspire to be the same role model. As I move forward in my medical journey, I carry his lessons with me. I am incredibly excited to have been accepted into a summer research program at the same institution where Dr. Williams advanced his knowledge in neurosurgery. My overall goal in medicine is to become a neurosurgeon-scientist at an academic hospital, where I can provide exceptional patient care while teaching and gaining expertise in research like him. As both a physician and mentor, I intend to emulate Dr. Williams’ kindness and guidance to ensure every student, regardless of their struggles, feels a sense of belonging in the field.
Arshi Kaur Chopra is a second-year medical student at the University of Louisville School of Medicine.
This essay was a submission to the 2025 Richard Spear, MD, Memorial Essay Contest.
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