My father was raised by his grandmother in Kingston, Jamaica. He attended Trench Town Comprehensive High School, which was a poor and underfunded school in Jamaica. After high school, my father made the executive decision to go to college. He applied to several schools, and decided to attend Columbia University in New York City. When my father arrived in the United States, he hated it. Compared to Jamaica, New York was a cold and sad place. After a couple of months, my father left Columbia and moved to Boston, Massachusetts. In Boston, my father worked full-time. At night, he worked a full shift from eleven o’clock until seven in the morning to pay for school and a place to live. During the day, my father attended school, where he took rigorous physics, chemistry and calculus classes. My father finished college in four years, receiving a degree in biology and chemistry. Two years later, he completed graduate school with a degree in biochemistry and went on to attend medical school. He currently works at a Harvard hospital in Boston, where he specializes in emergency medicine. Education has always been very important to my family. While both my mother and father have doctorates, their stories are drastically different. It was expected that my mother go to college, but my father was a first generation college and high school student. My father has more diplomas and certificates than pictured, and they all symbolize a lifetime of achievement.