Between Fear and Fire: A Young Scientist’s Fight for Justice
“I’m sorry I’m late to the meeting—I had to help my colleague close his lab after years of dedicated research,” my professor said, stepping in with tired eyes. It was my first day conducting stem cell research at Harvard University.
The room was silent.
Just down the hall, I had watched as boxes were filled with equipment, papers, and hope. Decades of innovation were being packed away, not because of scientific failure, but because funding from the National Institutes of Health had been stripped—collateral damage in a political war. I stood in disbelief, a young scientist barely stepping into the world of research, already witnessing its disintegration.
Photo Cr: Kalea (Unsplash)
That day could have made me question everything. But instead, it revealed a deeper truth: science alone cannot change the world. It needs policy. It needs advocacy. It needs us.
I’ve learned that lesson many times in my life.
As a first-generation college student and daughter of Mexican immigrants, I’ve grown up navigating the sharp lines between survival and silence. While I study medicine and research thousands of miles from my home, my family lives in constant fear—fear of ICE raids, of being stopped at a red light, of simply existing in a country that sees their presence as illegal. Under the current administration, that fear has only intensified.
We now live in a country where life-saving research is halted due to budget slashes, and families are torn apart under the name of law and order. I sit in labs with some of the brightest minds, watching dreams unravel not from failed experiments, but from political neglect. I speak to my family through late night calls, comforting them through the anxiety that the next headline could be about someone we love.
And yet, I keep going.
I keep researching, because science—despite its fragility in today’s climate—is still a vessel of hope. I keep advocating, because medicine is not just about treating symptoms; it's about confronting systems. And I keep writing, because our stories must be heard.
I used to believe that science and policy were separate. That I could be a doctor without being an advocate. But how can I treat patients when my community is denied healthcare because of immigration status? How can I search for cures when the labs we need are being emptied out and shut down?
Today, I understand that the boundaries between research, justice, and activism are not lines to avoid— they are intersections I must stand in.
I am not afraid of what's to come. I am fueled by it.
Because every time I enter a lab, I carry not only the drive to discover, but the responsibility to defend what discovery means. I represent the dreams of my parents, the fear in their voices, the resilience of my roots. I am here because they dared to hope for something better— and I will not let fear dictate the legacy they sacrificed for.
I am a first generation student. A daughter of immigrants. A scientific researcher. An aspiring physician. And a firm believer that youth are not leader-in-training-we are leaders now. Fear will never limit my commitment to changing our society.