“Shayna, can I talk to you about your CV when you have a minute?”
I was the first student into the room and was eager for his feedback. As one of my two faculty mentors authoring a medical school recommendation letter, I had also asked my professor’s advice about tweaking my working person turned student CV.
“OK, I’m ready,” I declared, after unloading my books and removing my coat.
By this time, my study partner and another student had arrived, but our class is small (five people) and we are a close cohort. There were still 10 minutes before class started, so I was ready for the critique—regardless of their presence. He seemingly didn’t hear me, though. Either that, or his comments were bad enough that he was waiting to deliver them in private.
Three hours later, when he asked me to stay after class, I had the sinking feeling that the latter inclination was correct.
“I just have a question about this…well, it seems that you’ve written a book,” he started.
I realize that being able to write a book doesn’t necessarily lend credibility to any future competency as a physician, but let’s be honest. Handling a successful writing career with a book project and full-time school shows a tremendous amount of determination. If anything, it should speak to the passion and fortitude I would bring to the medical field.
“Well, I mean, whatever your religious beliefs are…I mean, those are your religious beliefs…,” he continued.
He was rambling in an unusual and unexpected way and I knew we were on the brink of a very dark turn.
“…It’s just that I can tell you now that there are few, if any, medical schools in the country that will want to accept you if they think that you’re some kind of creationist that doesn’t believe in Darwinism and biology and…I mean, are you a creationist?,” he interrupted himself.
It would have been the perfect opportunity to faithfully declare that yes, I am a creationist! Unfortunately, I am also a people pleaser who needs affirmation and acceptance—especially from professors writing letters to get me into medical school.
“Well, I do espouse some evolutionist theories,” I tried to respond tactfully. “But, I also believe in creation. I don’t know what that makes me.”
My weak attempt at diplomacy had been transparent. He raised his eyebrows and sighed deeply.
“It just raises a red flag,” he told me. “No medical school wants to see that.”
It was the first time I had received such blatant advice about concealing my religious beliefs. If anything, my K-12 public school education taught me that educational institutions are responsible for protecting the beliefs of every religious, cultural, or other zealot. Not only had my beliefs not been criticized growing up, but special accommodations were usually made to respect them.
“I think you should take the book off your CV,” he counseled. “I really want to see you succeed,” he reassured me. “I want to help you.”
Regardless of how bad it sounded, I knew he wasn’t meaning to be hurtful. He was acting on good intentions and I believed him.
What he failed to ask me about, however, were the more than ten years of scientific research experience also listed on the same CV. What about the fact that I attended Johns Hopkins University on a full academic scholarship because of my science background? The list of university, private, and government lab positions—fueling both biomedical and clinical research—was so extensive that I had actually asked other mentors if I should purposely exclude some of them.
How could authoring a Christian book single-handedly negate my empirical science skills and raise doubt about my competency in the classroom? The thought was mind numbing.
Still, I know that his response was indicative of an accepted world view. He did me a favor by giving me advanced notice of what is to come and I’m grateful that my expression of shock and horror combusted on him and not say, the interview committee at Harvard. Still, I will be respectfully declining his advice to remove any record of my faith-driven work from my CV. If come this time next year, the only medical school I’m accepted at is a Christian one (heaven forbid!), you’ll know that it was because I didn’t properly conceal my scarlet “C” and accidentally paraded my crazy creationist views to the world.
Originally from Port St. Lucie, FL, has been a member of Miracle Temple since 2001. She started authoring "Unplugged," the relationship advice column for Insight magazine, while studying at Johns Hopkins University. After graduating in 2005, Shayna continued her ministry with the magazine and has become a sought after speaker and adviser on Christian relationships and dating. This fall, Shayna's first joint book venture-the GODencounters devotional-will be released by Review and Herald Publishing. Shayna is delighted to be serving as the 2008 communication secretary for Miracle Temple.