The Thousand Word Version of the "Describe Yourself"

My name is Sarah Averill. I am thirty-four years old. I am married and have two children: Isabel Aster Ella and Calvin Merriwether. We live in Albany New York where we keep a house with a crazy overgrown garden where the kids can pick strawberries, snow peas, and black raspberries in season. The neighbor kids sometimes cut through and help themselves. That’s why we planted so many. I like this urban life with corners that keep me connected to my family’s more rural roots.

I was born in Bangor, Maine to the son of a paper-mill hand, and the daughter of a failed Vermont dairy farmer turned apple peddler. Both of my parents became professionals, my mother a doctor and my father a lawyer. Both remained connected to their more humble origins, and taught me to respect people no matter what their social class or financial means.

These values were reinforced by my education at Cornell’s School of Industrial and Labor Relations and by my experience living at Telluride House, an eccentric institution that offered room and board scholarships to students dedicated to democratic values. While at Cornell I was influenced by the writings of John Rawls, particularly his book A Theory of Justice.

I have an older brother named Patrick and a younger sister named Leah. When she was little she was my tagalong. Excepting the senior prom, she went everywhere with me. At the time I thought nothing of it; it didn’t occur to me to resent it, and now I wonder if it may have kept me out of trouble as a teenager. We lived in Mexico from the time I was in first grade until fourth grade, so I learned to read and write in Spanish. This put something of a crimp in my education: I never did learn to spell English very well, and I have a terrible weakness for Mexican Mariachi music.

I like to sing with my husband and now we are teaching the children traditional songs and sea shanties. He comes from a long line of landlubbers so I don’t know why he so loves the music of the sea. As far as I can tell the only thing he shares with sailors is a certain trepidation about swimming. I, on the other hand, come from a long line of swimmers, but I don’t know of any sailors in my family tree either. I sing along just to keep him company. And it’s such fun to hear Isabel and Calvin piping in too. What will they become when they grow up?

If you were to ask me what I felt my greatest accomplishment in life was so far, I’d have to say being happily married for going on ten years. After that I would add that I’ve found a community and become part of it by participating in the local organizations from the neighborhood association to the school PTA. These are not things that I can put on a resume, but for me this community is what has made other accomplishments possible.

My greatest fear is of dying without getting to finish raising my children. They are my greatest love and my greatest inspiration in this life so far. When I tell people I am going to medical school they have one or two reactions: “Go for it!” and/or, “Who will raise your children?”

My answer is that, just as I do now, I will continue raising them with help from my husband and the community that I have been fortunate to find and build on over the last few years here in Albany. I know I will have less time to paint, and write, and garden, and sing. I know I may miss some of the major events of my children’s lives. This is the compromise that I’ve made in order to follow my path and usher them along theirs

My greatest hope is that I will leave the world a better place for my children and those that come after them. For me becoming a physician is a way of making this hope a reality. I know intimately that the world is in terrible trouble and that there are a lot of reasons to despair. Refraining from cynicism is as close to a religious practice as I have.