About Me
As a child, one of the most annoying questions I was asked by strangers was, “Do you know who you want to be when you grow up?” I found it so annoying because I only had half of the answer, a frustrating truncation, as I got anxious about the uncertainty of my indecision, and being unable to answer their question fully. Much to my dismay as I entered college, my answer had not changed to this age old question, one that has only gotten more anxiety inducing as I’ve gotten older. I have always replied, “No, I’m not sure exactly what I want to do yet, but I like helping people. Specifically, my passion is working with kids with different abilities.”
This passion was sparked in me when I was eight years old, and walked into Room 1, the classroom for four severely disabled students at my elementary school. While most third graders were racing to the yard to play after eating their lunch, I would make sure to eat most of my pre-packed lunch during recess. Then, at lunch, I could race over to Room 1, and see my new friends. I knew they couldn’t walk or talk, but this didn’t deter me. They smiled as I talked with them, and that was more than enough. One day, I watched in awe as one of them, a boy named Jason, moved his head in his chair ever so slightly so that he could hit a button placed less than an inch away from his hair. Different activities flashed onto the TV screen beside him, and he waited patiently for the TV icon to be highlighted, at which point he clicked his button. I was so impressed.
But I was also confused. The kids in Room 1 were awesome, and I didn’t understand why I and two others were the only ones who would visit them? Couldn’t everyone see their complexities, their personalities, as I could? I loved spending my lunches with them, helping them when I was able to. By the end of the year, I was using their bibs to wipe their drool when their professional aid was in another part of their room. I got to skip the third grade field trip, and instead go on the Room 1 field trip to the Zoo. The principal of my school gave me a badge, labelling me a TA of Room 1, so other adults would not stop me if they were curious as to where I was going during lunch time. I wore it with pride, and now keep it safely in a box of my sentimental possessions in my room.
This passion was sparked in me when I was eight years old, and walked into Room 1, the classroom for four severely disabled students at my elementary school. While most third graders were racing to the yard to play after eating their lunch, I would make sure to eat most of my pre-packed lunch during recess. Then, at lunch, I could race over to Room 1, and see my new friends. I knew they couldn’t walk or talk, but this didn’t deter me. They smiled as I talked with them, and that was more than enough. One day, I watched in awe as one of them, a boy named Jason, moved his head in his chair ever so slightly so that he could hit a button placed less than an inch away from his hair. Different activities flashed onto the TV screen beside him, and he waited patiently for the TV icon to be highlighted, at which point he clicked his button. I was so impressed.
But I was also confused. The kids in Room 1 were awesome, and I didn’t understand why I and two others were the only ones who would visit them? Couldn’t everyone see their complexities, their personalities, as I could? I loved spending my lunches with them, helping them when I was able to. By the end of the year, I was using their bibs to wipe their drool when their professional aid was in another part of their room. I got to skip the third grade field trip, and instead go on the Room 1 field trip to the Zoo. The principal of my school gave me a badge, labelling me a TA of Room 1, so other adults would not stop me if they were curious as to where I was going during lunch time. I wore it with pride, and now keep it safely in a box of my sentimental possessions in my room.
Those kids taught me how special life is. Every moment is a gift, and in almost anything we can find something to be grateful for, something beautiful. We are so unique, and when one looks beyond the surface, they have the privilege of seeing someone’s heart and what makes them who they are.
It might not surprise you to hear that I would consider myself a pretty positive person. I know I may sound too idealistic, but I have found that positivity spreads like wildfire when you believe in it, and believe in the power the little moments have, not just the big ones. This desire to have a positive impact, and my strong belief that I, and every single person on this planet is capable of doing so, has only grown stronger as I’ve gotten older, as has my desire to learn more about the world around me.
I’ve been lucky enough to have experiences that have allowed me to do both. The summer before my senior year, I was a TA in a special needs preschool classroom, and got to revisit my passion not from the perspective of a friend, but as someone whose job it is to help the kids learn. It was a hard job. Physically and mentally exhausting, but worth every challenge to see those kids smile and learn. I learned, too, that I still love working with kids, but that I didn’t think I wanted to do so in the classroom for my career. So, two summers later, I returned to my school district as an intern in the special education department, and got to shadow psychologists, speech therapists, and many more professionals who work behind the scenes to help kids with different abilities. This experience opened my eyes to how many different ways I can make an impact on people. I realized that there are so many career paths I don’t know about yet, and many more that I want to explore. If you thought 10-year-old Pearl was anxious after being asked what she wanted to do, you should have seen her after this internship.
I was nervous because I felt internal conflict. I love to explore, to adventure, to learn new things, even when it’s scary. Another question I always had trouble answering was what my favorite subject was, because throughout highschool, I really enjoyed every subject’s material. I’m from Los Angeles, a huge city with so much potential for exploration. This excites me, inviting me to seek out new adventures and experiences. I love seeing new places and meeting new people; I find it energizing to get to know people who are different from me, and discover how we relate to each other. It’s like a puzzle, and we are illuminating the pieces as we go.
It might not surprise you to hear that I would consider myself a pretty positive person. I know I may sound too idealistic, but I have found that positivity spreads like wildfire when you believe in it, and believe in the power the little moments have, not just the big ones. This desire to have a positive impact, and my strong belief that I, and every single person on this planet is capable of doing so, has only grown stronger as I’ve gotten older, as has my desire to learn more about the world around me.
I’ve been lucky enough to have experiences that have allowed me to do both. The summer before my senior year, I was a TA in a special needs preschool classroom, and got to revisit my passion not from the perspective of a friend, but as someone whose job it is to help the kids learn. It was a hard job. Physically and mentally exhausting, but worth every challenge to see those kids smile and learn. I learned, too, that I still love working with kids, but that I didn’t think I wanted to do so in the classroom for my career. So, two summers later, I returned to my school district as an intern in the special education department, and got to shadow psychologists, speech therapists, and many more professionals who work behind the scenes to help kids with different abilities. This experience opened my eyes to how many different ways I can make an impact on people. I realized that there are so many career paths I don’t know about yet, and many more that I want to explore. If you thought 10-year-old Pearl was anxious after being asked what she wanted to do, you should have seen her after this internship.
I was nervous because I felt internal conflict. I love to explore, to adventure, to learn new things, even when it’s scary. Another question I always had trouble answering was what my favorite subject was, because throughout highschool, I really enjoyed every subject’s material. I’m from Los Angeles, a huge city with so much potential for exploration. This excites me, inviting me to seek out new adventures and experiences. I love seeing new places and meeting new people; I find it energizing to get to know people who are different from me, and discover how we relate to each other. It’s like a puzzle, and we are illuminating the pieces as we go.
At the same time, I felt the pressure to know who I was, to know what I want to do, to know what career I expect to have at the end of a10-year plan I do not have. Not knowing felt like a curse. Fortunately, as my stress mounted, I ended up in a class asking me not to shy away from what I feared, but to lean into it. Sex, Gender, and Identity, a class I took in the middle of my sophomore year at Santa Clara University, asked me to look at all that I have to offer, and how my individuality is a strength, not a weakness . Further, it dared me to see that it’s okay to not know exactly what lies ahead of me. I’m 20 years old, for goodness sake. It helped me fall back in love with the parts of myself that had been swallowed by my anxiety. I remembered my love of the little things. I remembered to be brave. And I learned that, right now, an uncertain future is an exciting one, because vulnerability leads to exploration and deep connections with people, the two passions I had deep within me as I discovered Room 1 so many years ago.
This class has given me an immense drive to continue my exploration of both myself and my surroundings. This includes learning about numerous topics I am passionate about. I am super interested in public health, and I knew that I wanted an experience this year which allowed me to work directly with those working to increase the agency of marginalized communities. I also knew that the Global Social Benefit Fellowship would ask me to explore this subject in a way that is new to me. In doing so, it asks me to step out of my comfort zone and so grow, another challenge I am excited to take on.
I also love learning about the brain, and wanted to learn more about the biology of how we create meaning. Therefore, I am incredibly excited to be taking neurobiology, and to be examining a specific aspect of neuroscience that I find fascinating. Although I don’t know exactly what the future holds for me, I am excited to learn more about myself through these experiences, and explore this awe-inspiring world we live in even further.
This class has given me an immense drive to continue my exploration of both myself and my surroundings. This includes learning about numerous topics I am passionate about. I am super interested in public health, and I knew that I wanted an experience this year which allowed me to work directly with those working to increase the agency of marginalized communities. I also knew that the Global Social Benefit Fellowship would ask me to explore this subject in a way that is new to me. In doing so, it asks me to step out of my comfort zone and so grow, another challenge I am excited to take on.
I also love learning about the brain, and wanted to learn more about the biology of how we create meaning. Therefore, I am incredibly excited to be taking neurobiology, and to be examining a specific aspect of neuroscience that I find fascinating. Although I don’t know exactly what the future holds for me, I am excited to learn more about myself through these experiences, and explore this awe-inspiring world we live in even further.