Kerrie Go is a first-year medical student at the University of Vermont’s Larner College of Medicine.
In the following blog post, Go describes her journey to studying medicine here at the Larner College of Medicine. From navigating a world from Korean to English, to facing financial hardships, and working in emergency medical services, Go found a path to pursuing her dream of becoming a physician.
“When I put on my white coat, I know I won’t be putting it on just for myself. I’ll be thinking about my parents and everything they gave up to create better opportunities for my brother and me.” — Kerrie Go
Code Switching
I had a very nontraditional path toward medicine. I am the eldest daughter of Korean immigrants, and Korean was my first language. Most conversations in our household were in Korean, but outside of my home, I often felt like an outsider. I grew up in a small town where very few people looked like me, and for a long time, I was ashamed of the language and culture that made me different. I distanced myself from that part of my identity in an effort to fit in.
My parents never had the opportunity to attend college themselves, but they always emphasized education for my brother and me. They often told us that they had sacrificed their own futures so their children could have opportunities they did not. Being first generation, however, meant that there were many things we had to navigate on our own. My parents could encourage me to work hard, but they couldn’t tell me how college applications or financial aid worked, or what the path to becoming a physician was supposed to look like. Financial resources were limited, and there were periods when even having health insurance was not guaranteed. Language added another layer to those challenges. As the eldest daughter, I often found myself helping my parents navigate systems that I barely understood myself, whether that meant filing taxes, filling out the FAFSA, or making sense of paperwork in English. At the time, I mostly remember feeling frustrated. It wasn’t until I was older that I understood how difficult it must have been for my parents to build a life in a new country while navigating unfamiliar systems in a language that was not their first.
Building Skills and Feeling Ready
I ultimately attended the University of Rochester, but college did not go the way I had imagined. Financial pressures meant that I worked throughout undergrad to support myself, which took a toll on me academically and personally. I knew I wanted to become a physician, but when I graduated in 2020, I also knew I wasn’t ready for medical school yet.
What kept me connected to medicine was my work in Emergency Medical Services (EMS). I began volunteering with my local ambulance corps and eventually started working in EMS during college. I loved the responsibility of making quick clinical decisions and the privilege of being trusted to care for people during some of their most vulnerable moments. One of the most impactful periods of my EMS career came in 2020, when I was sent home early during my last semester of undergrad because of the COVID 19 pandemic and returned to volunteering with my local ambulance corps. Our area was hit especially hard early in the pandemic, and patient volume became so overwhelming that additional ambulances were deployed from across the country to support our local systems. Working through a pandemic put things into perspective for me. At a time when so much of the future felt uncertain, I realized two things. First, I couldn’t imagine myself walking away from medicine. No matter how long I waited, I knew I would eventually find my way back to it. Second, I realized there was no deadline for getting there. Taking more time to grow and prepare myself did not mean giving up on becoming a physician. It meant making sure I was ready when I finally took that next step.
What began as volunteering eventually became a career. During my gap years, I continued working in EMS, served as Captain of my volunteer ambulance corps, took on supervisory roles in paid EMS, and trained and mentored other EMTs. For a long time, I thought of my gap years as putting medical school on hold. Eventually, I realized they were doing the opposite. They were preparing me for it.
The Culmination of Hard Work
Looking back, I am incredibly grateful for the perspective my upbringing and experiences have given me. I saw firsthand how language and finances can become barriers to education, health care, and other resources. The Korean language and culture I once tried to distance myself from are now parts of myself that I deeply value. As a first-generation medical student, I hope to be a bridge for patients and families navigating an unfamiliar health care system or facing some of the same barriers my family did.
That is why the White Coat Ceremony means so much to me. The white coat represents something I have worked toward for a very long time, but it also represents all of the people and experiences that allowed me to get here. When I put on my white coat, I know I won’t be putting it on just for myself. I’ll be thinking about my parents and everything they gave up to create better opportunities for my brother and me. I’ll be thinking about the parts of my identity that I once tried to hide and that I now carry with pride. I’ll think about the patients I cared for in the back of an ambulance, the people who mentored me, and the people I eventually had the opportunity to mentor myself.
Being at Larner still feels surreal. I am coming into medicine a little older and through a much less traditional path than I once imagined, but I wouldn’t change the path that brought me here. Most of all, being able to have my parents watch me put on that white coat will be a reminder that their sacrifices gave me the opportunity to stand where I am today. They may not have been able to give me a roadmap to medical school, but they gave me the opportunity to create one for myself.
