DEIB Community Perspectives

Over time, learning more about my family history gave me a reason to be proud and excited about being Jewish. It made me realize how much I truly depended on the ethical and moral guidelines Judaism puts into place to lead my life.

Being Jewish has instilled values in me that drive my desire to provide the best patient care and to always put the health of others first. Acts of loving kindness and compassion are two that I find myself drawing upon the most.

Judaism has also had a constant and consistent presence in my life. I know that whenever school gets hard or there is a difficult situation to get through, I can always fall back on the comfort of Judaism— whether that is reminding myself of my strength through Jewish values or just simply indulging in some comfort food (like bagels).

To be honest, I have never celebrated AAPI month because growing up where I did, Asian and Pacific Islanders were in the majority and I guess we celebrated with each other all year long. One thing I have noticed change in Hawaii is the reverence for the Hawaiian language and culture has deepened. When Christian missionaries came to Hawaii in the 1800s, many traditions were frowned upon and threatened to be lost–like hula and the Hawaiian language itself. The Hawaiian monarchy was then illegally overthrown by American businessmen in 1893 and more of the culture was suppressed. Now, however, Hawaiian is offered as a foreign language in more high schools and more Hawaiian words are used in everyday language.

Another important thing to know: we reserve the word 'Hawaiian' to refer to people who have native Hawaiian ancestry. If you ask me if I am Hawaiian knowing I grew up there, I would correct you and say that I am not Hawaiian but I am from Hawaii. That can confuse people, but we do it because being Native Hawaiian is a very special thing.

–Dr. Kuniyoshi Kanai, Faculty

I’m honored to have gotten the chance to fulfill my dream of becoming a Punjabi-speaking optometrist at UC Berkeley.

My favorite part of my Filipino culture is the food! I always look forward to big family parties and eating 'kare kare' (creamy peanut stew with oxtail and vegetables) and 'sisig' (crispy chopped pork) while hanging out with all of my cousins. I encourage everyone to try out Filipino food if you get the chance!

I am extremely fortunate to be where I am today, pursuing my dream career at one of the best institutions in the world, alongside some of the most brilliant peers, mentors, and faculty I have ever met. I count every blessing, because none of it would even be possible without the combined hard work and support of my mother and my father.

Family values are important in building a solid foundation and home base — my family loves spending nights together playing games, trying new restaurants, and being in one another’s company. The simplest things can make such a huge difference, and it’s important to find opportunities to learn and grow from one another, whether that be with your parents, siblings, or friends!

My experience as an Arab American has shaped my education and career path in optometry by instilling me with adaptive thinking and a vision for long-term growth. The guidance of education as the foundation to success led me into the sciences – studying Biomedical Engineering where I was exposed to imaging and vision systems from a technical application. This informed a personal and professional interest in photography, the style of which was influenced in part by my cultural heritage. My experiences as an Arab-American woman, my profession, and my educational background inspired a more focused interest in one of the most fundamental aspects of the human experience – vision.

One of the first things I did when I decided to start pursuing a degree in optometry was I started volunteering in optometry clinics in Tecate, Mexico. Not only did I want to gain real life optometry experience and assist underserved communities, but I also wanted to be in a familiar environment. As I volunteered, I realized how my experiences and ability to speak Spanish allowed me to connect with patients. When I eventually arrived at Berkeley, I knew I wanted to continue serving communities like the ones in Tecate and so I joined VOSH, which regularly did a mission trip down to Nicaragua. When I went in 2020, we saw over 4,000 patients. It reenforced the value of a Spanish speaking optometrist. Now during my 4th year rotations at Hayward and Eastmont, I often see patients that speak little to no English and am able to deliver the culturally competent care that they deserve.

Throughout my optometric career I have been searching out ways to engage with my Latin heritage, but that doesn’t mean that I haven’t found a strong Latin community here at Berkeley. There is a great network of smart and caring latinos that I am incredibly proud to be a part of. It has been a rewarding adventure and I cherish all of the opportunities that I have seized upon.

Growing up I was responsible for translating for my family members who only spoke Spanish. I quickly realized that there were not enough people who looked like my family or spoke like my family in healthcare. I wanted to make that difference. Not just to be able to communicate with my patients, but to be accessible to them as well. I will never forget a patient who I was helping translate during her visit. She was experiencing decreased vision for about one year, but was too scared to visit an eye doctor due to cost. Due to uncontrolled diabetes she had detached retinas in both eyes. I will never forget the look on her face when I was translating what the doctor was saying, 'You may have decreased vision for the rest of your life.' She cried. It was difficult not to cry with her. Could this irreversible damage have been prevented if she had visited us sooner? If she knew who to see when she noticed the changes in her vision? If she wasn’t too afraid of how much the visit would cost? I hope to be able to educate my community to never ask myself those questions ever again.

Myself and my fellow Latinx and Hispanic classmates will make that difference. We are joining those few who came before us and inspiring those who will come after us. It is not just for our families, but for our communities as well. Si se puede!

I will never forget the gratitude in the eyes of the first patient I assisted. I lacked experience and was nervous. She was petite, had enormous chocolate brown eyes, and had the warmest smile on her face. Something about her mannerism was comforting. She reminded me of my tias, my neighbors, and my friend’s parents. The patient spoke minimal English. She struggled to communicate that she was unable to pay for her treatment. A look of relief washed over her face when I broke down her options in Spanish. Her smile alone confirmed that eliminating barriers to healthcare was something I could see myself doing as a practicing doctor. I had never considered the power I held as a native Spanish speaker and aspiring clinician. I was able to help not only her but each individual that sought the help of Project Vision. I guided them to local clinics and offered vouchers for eye exams or frames. I felt confident yet unsatisfied. I knew that being the doctor within each clinic would be much more impactful.

That evening I pondered on my childhood. I grew up in a predominantly Hispanic community. I have friends and family members that share experiences with that of my patient. These experiences are not just a one-time thing. They are a consistent issue within our communities. They were and continue to be a deeply rooted problem in the healthcare system. Individuals from underrepresented communities often lack resources and access to healthcare. Having access to healthcare does not mean that individuals will be exempt from language barriers or even medical racism. One of the most significant parts of being a clinician is forming genuine connections with patients. As a Latina in STEM and aspiring OD, I hope to use my voice inside and outside the exam room. I am passionate about eliminating the health gaps formed by racial inequalities. From raising cultural awareness amongst my future colleagues to breaking down language barriers and bridging the gap to equitable healthcare, I aspire to serve and support communities like the one I grew up in. I eagerly anticipate the day where I greet my patients in a cheery lobby and say Hola, soy la Doctora Orozco. Voy hacer su examen hora – Hello, I am Dr. Orozco, I will be doing your exam today.

Being Latinx, I began an unknown journey that no one in my family had the opportunity or resources to do before. Throughout high school and college, I broke stereotypes and statics endowed upon my ethnicity. It means that statistically I was not supposed to end up at Berkeley Optometry. My Latinx heritage influences the exam room. It is a symbol of diversity within the field of optometry. My goal as a future optometrist is to influence Latinx children and young adults sitting in my exam chair because maybe, they will finally see someone who looks like them and speaks their language. Being Latinx does not influence me; it influences and empowers the future of tomorrow so that their only limit is themselves, not judgments, not statistics, not stereotypes.

My family immigrated from Monterrey in Mexico before I was born, and we qualified to receive free eye care and eye wear thanks to the Gift of Sight program. If it weren’t for this charitable organization, my family would not have afforded eyeglasses for me during a critical time in my educational development. My vision impairment would have gone ignored for years, and that is the sad reality that many minorities and other vulnerable groups face in our country.

Having lived through this experience firsthand shaped my commitment to serve and care for the needs of other diverse, under-resourced populations as an aspiring optometrist. Even now as a student, what gets me through all the long nights studying is the constant reminder of the impact I’ll have as a multilingual eye doctor in my community.

As business owners, my parents have influenced my appreciation for community. Starting to work at a private practice while I was in high school, I noticed very quickly how vital eye-care is in my small community where there isn’t many providers around. Being a part of a community means being able to understand and learn from the many different backgrounds, cultures, and identities around you.

As a first generation Mexican-American, I grew up with first-hand experience on the importance of cultural competency in providing high quality patient care. I experienced this locally, but even more so when traveling to Guatemala on a mission trip to help provide eye exams and shadow strabismus surgery. Being bilingual, I felt a personal connection to the culture and community. I had the opportunity to personally work with over 500 children and adults during field vision screenings at my glasses station. It reminds me just how much our work of prescribing them with a new pair of glasses could allow them the ability to attend school and lead a normal life. I feel humbled knowing that eye-care has the power to potentially change the outcome of someone’s life.

With only 5% of doctor’s in the US being Hispanic/Latinx, I feel grateful to be apart of the growing diversity in healthcare. Closing the language barrier brings a sense of trust when it comes to patient care and I look forward to provide that to my future patients. As a future Latina doctor, I look forward to being able to be a role model as well as provide high quality patient care to my Hispanic/Latinx community.

My known Native lineages come from my maternal side of the family with descendants from the Cherokee and Yowani-Choctaw tribes in the Southeast and Midwest regions of America. Sadly, my family knows very little about our history and culture as traditions failed to cross generations due to poor bookkeeping from oppressors and complex relations between Black and Natives communities themselves at the time.

Thankfully, my family was at least fond of cameras, and we still can try to fill in the gaps of our ancestral tree from the photos that have survived the centuries.

Every year during the holidays, my mother and I will rummage through old sepia photos on tattered paper and scratched metal plates from the late 19th and early 20th centuries. It’s amazing how the clarity in familial stories emerge from connecting the clues given in the low-contrast monochrome images, solving an incredible ancestral puzzle. Though I may not have fanciful stories of tribe leaders, warriors, or healers, my experience has given me a strong curiosity to uncover my multi-generational mystery. This strong curiosity that I have to discover answers about my own history is the same curiosity that fuels my ambition to discover answers for the future through research as a graduate student today.