The Effects Of Poverty Has Made Me Compassionate For Those Less Fortunate

In the opinion of this author, the vast majority of all physicians have had only the briefest exposure to the vast ravages of poverty in the United States. During their medical-school rotations and residency training, the lives of disadvantaged people can provide clinical opportunities to learn and

My family immigrated to the United States in the late 1970s, as Hmong refugees after the secret war with the Pathet Laos. My family originally settled in San Diego, California for several years before they decided to move to Fresno, California. When my parents came to Fresno they were receiving welfare and attending adult school. My father noticed that their friends and relatives were earning more money working in the fields than going to school. My parents dropped out of adult school and started farming to support themselves and my five siblings. My parents felt they couldn’t stop farming because this was now their only way of earning an income to support the family. Growing up, my parents would emphasize the importance of school and getting a bachelor degree.

In December of 2005, my family and I came to the United States from the Dominican Republic. I came to the United States because my parents wanted to provide my siblings and I a better future. In my hometown, The U.S is considered the country of opportunities. At that time, I was oblivious and unaware of what was going on. I did not understand why I had to move across the world. When we came to United States, my family and I had to live with my grandfather. He shared his home and provided us with anything we needed. It was difficult adjusting to a new culture and environment.

First of all, my family is Chinese. My parents immigrated into the United States 15 years ago from Hong Kong and so I am the first generation to go to college in the US. It is important to note that my parents did not come to the US so that they can attain a higher status but more so because they wanted to give me a chance to attain a higher status. When we first arrived my mother did not work, and my father’s first job was at a Asian supermarket. The pay was low and there was no coverage of any kind. We lived at my Aunt’s house until we managed to find public housing in Charlestown. Somewhere around that time my father managed to find a job at Boston Scientific as a Material Handler, and basically what he does it drive a forklift truck around a warehouse to find and move stock. The job change did not alleviate my father’s nor the family’s status. The pay was better and there is health insurance and retirement plans. However, even with my father working overtime, there is still simply a shortage in money especially when my twin brothers came along. That was when my mother decided that she needs to work too and she found herself working as a waitress at two Chinese restaurants. In terms of jobs, I think my parents did the best they could considering they speak little to no English and only have a high school education. There is simply not a wide range of options for

Virginia Garcia’s mission statement to help those in need with an emphasis on being culturally competent aligns strongly with my goals to be a pharmacist. Growing up in East Los Angeles I came to know how much help my family needed as well as the community there. East Los Angeles is known for its world-class boxers as well as a lot of lower-income individuals primarily immigrants. When my mom, an immigrant, was pregnant with me she had to go to several clinics for help because we did not have health insurance but the quality of those clinics were not the highest. Virginia Garcia’s missions aims to curb this kind of care and focuses on individuals like my mom of low socioeconomic status and more importantly strives to provide high quality care.

My parents came to the U.S. with nothing but the money in their pockets. We lived with my three aunts for a year, until my father could figure what to do. He decided to start a convenience store to try to provide for his family. He was not making as much as he was in Korea, but he had to make do with what he had. Due to this lack of income, I had to attend four different elementary schools: one in Korea, two in Baltimore County, and one in Howard County. Even though two of them were in Baltimore County, I still could not maintain my friendships because I could not drive, and my parents had to work all the

Growing up, I was a first generation American. My family emigrated from Egypt seventeen years ago with a dream of starting a life in America. After coming to a new country and leaving their family behind, they had to find a way to start a new life. However, being an immigrant came with many challenges that my parents had to face head on. A few months after my parents and sister moved to America, I was born. Being that my parents never received a full education they struggled only to earn mundane jobs. My mom stayed home to take

One of the most important responsibilities of a pharmacist—whether in a hospital or community setting—is to help people. I was able to observe this critical factor portrayed by my clinical instructors at both St. Francis and at Walgreens. All the pharmacists I worked with during those two weeks displayed a genuine desire to improve their patients’ quality of life by ensuring no drug-drug interactions were present and asking questions about medication histories. I felt humbled and gratified being able to contribute in a minor way when providing

This service learning course has provided me with an insight to core values and characteristics that pharmacists need to possess to become true health care providers. I volunteered at the St. Louis Crisis Nursery this semester for my community outreach portion. My first trips to the Crisis Nursery were filled with initial prejudices and thoughts about how horrible this situation this was going to be. I remember being terrified to get out of my car to walk up to the building, let alone actually interact with these children and parents. The small town I am from, was not socially or ethnically diverse. I also attended a private school where many people we well off financially and I stayed friends with many of these people when I attended High School. I was reluctant to listen to the parent’s stories or honestly, feel any sense of compassion or empathy for them. I felt that they likely put themselves into the situation and that they could get out of it on their own too. However, as I continued to attend volunteering at the nursery, my outlook changed drastically. I actively engaged with the children and formed relationships within the small amount of time I was there. I talked to the parents and began to feel sorry for the situations they were put into. I actually looked forward to my weekly visits to either play outside, read to, or even be a jungle gym for the children. Empathy is something that cannot be taught, but it can be something one can learn- which is exactly my

Having been working as a pharmacy technician over this past year, I have had the chance to interact with a very diverse population in term of both race and age. A lot of the patients that my pharmacy serves have health disparities that are results of poverty and low education. I have encountered patients who choose to not purchase a medication that their doctors prescribed because their insurances do not cover the cost entirely. Most of the time, the staffs of the pharmacy and I will call their physicians to ask for an alternative medication or do prior authorization for the patients to make sure they have access to the medications that they need. There are many older generation immigrants who can not understand English very well, which leads

The lack of access in developing countries to the cheap drugs that we take for granted in our "developed" society and that would solve more than 90% of the health problems that afflict underprivileged countries”( Serrano,3 ). The less-developed countries that provide healthcare for all its citizens and those countries are more successful than our own because in developed countries like Hong Kong’s universal health care system has heavy government participation -- in Hong Kong health care system public hospitals accounts for 90 percent of in-patient procedures, while the many private options are used by the rich people.

In the beginning of our journey my parents often reflected on how they left their high status jobs and were now doing “sale boulot”, or dirty jobs. In other words jobs, that they felt they should not be doing. Coming to America, we were filled with so many great expectations. They were hoping to find good jobs and live comfortably. Sadly that was not the reality. Like many immigrants with foreign diplomas, my parents` diplomas were disregarded when they arrived. Even when they went back to school and earned American degrees, they found that their age, accent, and skin color became obstacles.Although they qualified for the jobs, they were never called back after interviews. They were often seen as not american enough.  My mom later resorted to becoming a nurse and my dad became a translator for a non profit organization. My parents never

Poverty affected me by taking everything that I loved. The only thing I have is my family and a meal once a day. It changed the way our family can live. I miss staying in a house that I can relax and sleep comfortably. We can’t afford enough food for the family. I’m almost at that point where I want to give up. Our family is starving, cold, and depressed. My family is starting to lose hope about going back to our normal lives. I have little hope that we can go back living

I was born in Lercara Friddi, Sicily to my parents Antonio and Rosalia Lucania. In Sicily, my father worked a job in the sulfur mines. However, a promise of a better life in America led my family to immigrate to the United States in 1907, when I was only ten years old. The trip was not that long, taking only 17 days, but it gave me a chance to dwell on what to expect from this move. After arriving at Ellis Island, my parents chose to settle in New York City at the Lower East Side

Some of my fondest childhood memories come from the times I had running around the city with Neeley and looking for scraps of metal to trade for small pocketchange. Money was scarce, so we would meet up with “Cheap Charlie” and exchange our seltzer bottle caps and foil from bubble gum packs on Sundays. Looking back, growing up in such a poor setting came with its obvious disadvantages, but I am certain that my conflict with poverty has positively impacted my life. For a start, the absence of money in my family put a greater emphasis on just how powerful it is. As a child, I spent a great deal of time wanting things but having no way to collect them. However, when my pockets were loaded with all of five cents from trading with Charlie, I instantly