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USA250 Journal Project
Personal Chronicle: July 4, 2025 – July 5, 2026
A gift for reflection. A record of now. A story for what’s next.
JOURNAL ENTRY — July 4, 2025
📍 Phoenix, Arizona
📝 Prompt One: “Who am I?”
I am Maya Kaur Singh.
Daughter of immigrants.
Granddaughter of farmers and freedom fighters.
Best friend. Phlebotomist. Listener.But beneath the job titles and roles—
I am someone who holds the pulse.
Every day, I find the vein. I steady the hand. I draw the blood.
And maybe that’s who I’ve always been:
The one who shows up with calm in the middle of other people’s storms.I carry my grandmother’s scarf and my mother’s strength.
I carry tea bags in my purse, just in case.
I carry stories people tell me in passing—and remember them even when they forget.Deep down, I think I’m someone who notices what others miss.
The way Luisa looks away when she’s tired.
The way Diego stops talking when he’s afraid he’s said too much.I’m the friend who doesn’t walk away.
The one who will sit with you in silence and still hear everything.I don’t need to be loud to matter.
I just need to be here.
And I am.
JOURNAL ENTRY — July 6, 2025
📍 Phoenix, Arizona
📝 Prompt Two: “How did I get here?”
I got here through early mornings and quiet decisions.
Through science textbooks that didn’t always include people who looked like me.
Through prayers whispered while washing dishes.I got here because my parents believed in progress—the kind that comes from showing up, keeping your head down, and doing the work.
But I watched too many people break under silence.
So I learned to speak, gently.I found my way to healthcare because I wanted to be useful.
Not just helpful—useful.
There’s a difference.I got here because Luisa needed someone who wouldn’t flinch at the hard parts.
Because when she started to disappear into the routine of sacrifice, I stayed.I got here because my Nani taught me how to make tea and how to hold space for pain.
I got here by knowing when to act and when to simply witness.
And now I’m here.
Still learning.
Still holding.
Still believing that soft doesn’t mean weak—and showing up is a form of protest, too.
Family, Friends & Associates
Luisa Marquez – Best friend.
