Walking in the Dark

I was recently honored to be invited as a keynote speaker at the 35th Annual SUMMA Conference at Stanford — hosted by the Stanford University Minority Medical Alliance, a coalition of ten student organizations within Stanford School of Medicine united by a shared mission: uplifting underserved and underrepresented communities through medicine, mentorship, and leadership.

More than 600 pre-medical and pre-health students traveled from across the country to attend. Looking out across that room, I saw not only ambition, but stories — many shaped by adversity, loss, resilience, and perseverance, much like my own. I spoke about mentorship and about the path that led me to become a surgeon and scientist — a path that has never felt linear, but rather unfolded step by step, often without visibility far beyond the immediate horizon.

When I reflect on my own journey, I think about a path navigated in darkness. At the beginning of any meaningful pursuit, the entire road is rarely visible. The turns ahead remain hidden. The distance remains uncertain. Only a few steps appear clearly — and still, progress continues.

Mentors make that progress possible. They illuminate the next step when the path itself cannot yet be seen. They stand like lamp posts along a dark road — steady, patient, quietly guiding — revealing just enough of the way to sustain forward motion.

My first mentors were my parents. I lost them when I was seven years old. At that age, loss registers not as abstraction but as absence. Yet what they instilled before they were gone endured. They left a foundation strong enough to outlast circumstance: a sense of purpose, a belief in perseverance, and the conviction that difficulty does not justify stopping — it often demands continuing. They never showed me a map to medicine, but they gave something far more enduring: the belief that a path not yet visible could still be walked. They were my first light.

Over time, other lights appeared. Surgeons who modeled discipline and excellence. Scientists who insisted on questioning assumptions and pursuing truth. Teachers and leaders who demonstrated that medicine extends beyond individual patient care into discovery, system-building, and shaping the future for people never personally met. Each mentor functioned like a lamp along that road — not illuminating the entire journey, but revealing enough for the next step, and then the next, and then the next.

That is mentorship in its truest form — not a spotlight revealing a destination, but a steady source of light that sustains forward motion. At its core, mentorship does not center on information; it centers on belief. It is someone recognizing potential before it becomes self-evident. Someone steady enough to affirm belonging. Someone generous enough to encourage persistence.

Uncertainty accompanies every meaningful path. An incomplete view of the road does not signal inadequacy; it signals growth. Expansion rarely feels comfortable. The objective is not the elimination of uncertainty, but the decision to proceed with purpose despite it. A genuine desire to serve sustains progress. Scores and accolades function as tools, but the true foundation rests in something simpler and stronger: the enduring commitment to care for people when they are vulnerable. When that motivation remains authentic, it continues to guide long after confidence fluctuates.

Over time, a remarkable shift occurs. The journey no longer depends solely on borrowed light. It begins to generate its own. That transformation defines the deepest purpose of mentorship: light received, light carried forward, light placed along the path for those who follow.

As I left the SUMMA conference, one image remained vivid — a room filled with future physicians, scientists, and healers, each carrying a story, a question, and a road not yet fully visible. What stood out most was not simply ambition, but light. The curiosity, the compassion, the quiet determination — the qualities that shape not only capable clinicians, but transformative ones.

Communities like SUMMA do more than prepare students for careers in medicine. They place lamp posts along the road. They reinforce the truth that no meaningful path is walked alone. And that is how medicine advances — one light passed from hand to hand.