Koko Kumar | Growing to Love
FEBRUARY 3, 2020
Ask me to think of Koko, and I will think of late nights spent together: just talking, or dancing, or laughing so hard our stomachs hurt. I will think of the hours we have spent planning our future weddings, or gossiping about boys, or watching sitcoms and trying to figure out which characters we most resemble. I will think of these moments—the images scrolling like a blooper reel, piling up to the sky—each one distinct, each one special. There are too many to count. But they all carry a joy, a love, a hint of insanity, a warmth that I cannot explain, but that is no less real for it. Koko is one of the few people around whom I can be my fullest and most uninhibited self. And so I write this in testament of that which she gives so freely to others: that is, her heart.
Koko has spent her entire life here. She was born in Stanford’s own Lucile Packard Children’s Hospital, and she lives in Redwood City—less than a twenty-minute drive away. Yet her home is twofold. My parents have done the best that they possibly could to bring the world of India into our household. All the movies that I watched, or the music that I listened to, growing up—it was all Bollywood. Whenever people referenced Audrey Hepburn or any other famous American actresses or movies, I never knew what was going on. But I could reference all of those things in Indian culture for you.
As a result, she spent a lot of high school (and even college) trying to understand where her cultural identity—so strong within her home—fit into her life in California. It was particularly difficult because she attended school in a homogenous, predominantly white area, and she struggled at times to express all parts of herself—the Indian, the American, the female—within an environment that rewarded conformity. She tells me, a lot of growing up has just been me trying to find my own hybrid of two cultures—two entirely different ways of being—that works for me, but that also respects my parents and my family’s values, as well as the ones that I am learning here.
At Stanford, she began to find communities and individuals that accepted and even celebrated this self-expression. My friends encourage that blend in cultures to come out of me, so I feel like they’ve helped these two different parts of my identity align with each other more. They have brought out a very free side of me. I feel like I’ve just learned so much from them, and I’ve become a much less strained and conforming version of myself. They have played a very eye-opening and perspective-broadening role for me.
Of course, she also reciprocates this support and encouragement in kind. One of the things that most stood out to me about Koko—and, indeed, I still find exceptional about her today—is her ability to listen. To relate. Maybe this is why I’ve told her more about myself than most anyone else; she is wonderful to talk to, if only because she makes you feel heard and understood and respected. (Also, she doesn’t spill your secrets. Probably.) She values this in others, too, which is perhaps why she practices it so diligently herself.
I really value the idea of empathy, she tells me. I’ve found myself most drawn to people that are empathetic—that can take the perspective of others, and go beyond their own needs and wants to really see someone else’s point of view and see why they’re struggling.
This is also why she is drawn to the field of medicine. I like listening to people—listening to their struggles and stories. Even if it’s not giving advice, it’s just about being present with a person and having that shared understanding of a life experience. That’s a huge reason why I want to go into a profession that deals so much with empathy and caring for human beings. I honestly have never even really considered another profession. I feel like if you spend your life taking care of people, there’s no way that you can be unfulfilled at the end of the day.
(Koko is the third future doctor that I’ve profiled for this blog. Medically speaking, I’m set for life. Professionally speaking, I should maybe start considering a more noble—and less corporate—career choice for myself. My friends put me to shame.)
Her biggest motivating factor, however, is her mom. She is my inspiration. She is one of the only doctors in my entire family, and definitely the only woman doctor in my family, and I literally can’t name someone who is more hardworking. She goes to work for sometimes thirteen to fourteen hours a day, like she leaves the house at five a.m. and doesn’t come back until eight p.m., but somehow she still smiles about it, and actually, genuinely loves her job. Just being able to see her so happy even though the profession is so grueling—she loves it so much.
In the end, so much of it comes down to family. Recently I’ve been having these epiphanies like—wow, my parents have done so much for me. She admits that it has not been easy at times, and that she has had to learn, together with her parents, about what it means to strike a balance between the world she comes from and the world that she inhabits. I’ve been through a lot with my family. But despite everything growing up, they are unconditionally loving and so supportive of me. I think as I’ve grown older, they have understood my world a little bit more, and I’ve understood theirs.
She wants to make them proud. I want to show them that the amount that they have put into giving me a good life, and all of these opportunities that they have given me—I want them to know that it will pay off. I really value that. I want to show them how much I care.
If I may. Having known Koko over the past two and a half years, I have witnessed just how much she has grown into herself. She has come to love and connect deeply with those around her. She has grappled with many of her own demons, but she has never been selfish—always willing to reach out, to extend a hand, to be there, to listen. She has helped me even when I could not ask for it; she has held me while I cried, and talked me through my tears, and made me laugh in spite of my sadness.
She has hosted me for Diwali. She has taught me to have fun—to live in the moment—to let loose the weirdest parts of myself—to be unashamed of who I am. She has demanded to be my bridesmaid. She has lent me clothes, and curled my hair, and called me at all hours of the day just because something reminded her of me. Koko, I am lucky to have you. I am blown away by your integrity, your insanity, and your kindness. And I am honored to have had the privilege to join you on this journey to finding yourself—a journey we will continue to take, together—through this crazy little thing we call life.
Photo courtesy of Koko Kumar
