Marwa Khan '26 Recruiting Profile

I locked the safe and threw away the key. The safe contained a book, pages engraved with invisible ink—the words to my story. The hesitance in every key I press isn't from a lack of words. It's from the little girl in my heart, reluctant to let out her screams. Growing up I observed everything in much depth however as my eyes opened wider, my voice seemed to fade. I planned out every word I uttered and anticipated every reaction. I liked to think that I had a superpower—predicting the outcome of words before they were even said. Yet I learned that such knowledge is meaningless unless acted upon.

For as long as I can remember, the only thing that stood out to people about me was the label 'quiet.' The word began to trigger me. Each time, it shot a bullet through my lungs. I gasped for air as the silence suffocated me. I never tried to be 'quiet'; it was a convenience. But with every sting of the word, I became determined to defy it—the silence that had once captivated me would now be my weapon to break free.

 I sought new ways to express myself beyond words, and that search led me to art. The music drowned any sound of reality, as I dramatically pulled the drapes towards each other. The emptiness of the stretched material on the wooden frame fascinated me and allowed me to be as loud as possible without making a sound. Spreading the lumps of hues across the blankness of white, creating figments of colors shaped to describe the tension between the canvas and myself. Following hours of nonstop creation, I would take a step back and be faced with a mirror reflecting the cacophony inside. It felt like a diagnosis, each color, texture, and shape representing symptoms that perfectly described exactly what I was feeling.

That one accident where the colors of my thoughts met the canvas, unintentionally changed my life. Art taught me the power of having a voice that you solely call your own. Not only using it for the betterment of self but to document life's ups and downs along the way. Since then, my paintings depict the world I see, which is what you call perspective. The idea of perspective has fascinated me for as long as I can remember, the inevitability of change at every slight shift. The world is always moving, but that doesn't mean I stand still.

Summer of 2023-Ready for taxi, I sat there shutting my eyes to assuage the pounding between the crevices of my forehead. The floor began to move and vibrate ferociously, ascending sounds of the engine before the silence ensued. I engaged in reminiscing about a couple of years back when I was informed by my parents of their thoughts of moving to America. That day I laughed it off at its improbability while my heart sank at the slight potential of it happening. Nine thousand miles, I dreaded looking at the bottom corner of the illuminated screen as it read nine thousand miles. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but I was foolish enough to think that it would even come close. From the humid, scorching air and the warmth of the Gulf to the cold San Francisco breeze, the shift was overwhelming.

 Adapting to my new surroundings was challenging, but I gradually began to accept my reality. However, nothing could have prepared me for the culture shock I experienced on August 14th, 2023—my first day of high school. Coming from an international niche British private school, I thought had my fair share of diversity and culture, I mean how different could school be right? I was wrong, the names and dates written on the isolated benches confused and sickened me followed by the run-down walls with gypsum tearing at the seams and crowding of the open space between each class. Whether it be English or Math, subjects that we consider universal differ beyond measure in every way possible.

To say that the transition from Dubai to Fremont was challenging would be an understatement. Navigating academic instability, cultural differences, and social shifts taught me resilience—a trait I now see as essential for my future in healthcare. If there’s one thing I learned from what initially felt like the end of the world, it’s this: change is inevitable, so you might as well ride the wave.

This experience fostered resilience within me and broadened my perspective on life. It taught me that life is inherently inconsistent, and as an aspiring healthcare provider, it is vital to grow in a way that allows you to adapt and learn from every new challenge.

These qualities have shaped my growth and future ambitions, leading me to pursue medicine as a career. This fascination has led me to see myself as nothing other than a doctor. As a result of such endeavors, I’ve begun to dedicate myself to helping and giving back to my community the best I can. Whether this be through volunteering at the Stanford Blood Drive as a canteen host or supporting public health start-ups through my internship at CREATE Kids Inc.

Yet, this hunger for growth and balance extends beyond academics—it’s a principle I live by, even in the water. Swimming, like life, offers a unique balance of intensity and tranquility. Change was once a fire that I had to walk through; today it's my fuel to keep going. My hunger for intensity and a balance between challenge and comfort is what drives me to continue to defy my silence. I’ve come to learn more about myself as I grow, and how my need for intensity is rooted in the sport that I pursue—swimming. 

Be it the screams of my coach pushing me to give my best contrasted by the tranquility and peace under the thin layer of water. The layer between the surface and cold air pushing against it, where you find me pulling my arms through each stroke, splashing and feeling each drop of water be drawn towards the bottom. It's a weird kind of peace, that's found amidst the chaos of a crowded pool yet it's exhilarating. Even in the water, my fire of constant change and the resilience to fight it is never extinguished. 

Persistence and adaptability have become my guiding principles, whether in the pool, the classroom, or my community. These qualities form the foundation of who I am and who I strive to become—a compassionate and resilient healthcare provider ready to face the challenges ahead.