“Why do you want to be a doctor?”
Ask any pre-med that question, and you’ll probably hear the same answer: “I just want to help people.”
I’ve said it, too—more times than I can count. But lately, I’ve started to question what that phrase even means. Not because I’ve lost faith in medicine, but because I’ve learned that helping is more complex, layered, and humbling than I ever imagined.
As the host of a podcast focused on innovation and mental health care, I’ve had the chance to interview some of the most forward-thinking leaders in medicine—people who are literally redesigning the future. A few months ago, I spoke with a medical leader focused on artificial intelligence in medicine. Not long after, I interviewed the founding dean of a new medical school in Tennessee. Both conversations shook me in the best way. They didn’t just expand my understanding of what health care could be—they forced me to confront what I used to get wrong about “helping people.”
Helping isn’t always healing.
One of the first things I realized is that helping someone doesn’t always mean curing them. I used to associate being a good future doctor with solving problems, checking boxes, and fixing things. But in my conversation with the dean, they reminded me that some of the most powerful acts in medicine aren’t technical—they’re relational. It’s sitting with patients through uncertainty. It’s validating pain even when we can’t explain it. It’s realizing that being present sometimes matters more than prescribing a pill.
You don’t need an MD to make a difference.
I’ve learned that “helping people” doesn’t start after med school. It starts now.
Through conversations with physicians, mental health advocates, and policy leaders, I’ve learned that your ability to care isn’t defined by a white coat. It’s defined by how you show up for your community. I’ve led donation drives for foster youth, organized mental health campaigns, and used storytelling to make underrepresented voices heard. I used to think I needed credentials to be useful. Now I know that compassion is a credential, too.
So what does “helping” really mean?
It means staying curious. Asking better questions. Being willing to unlearn and rebuild. It means looking at systems, not just symptoms—and understanding that impact lives at the intersection of empathy, equity, and action.
As pre-meds, we need to retire the vague language of “helping people” and replace it with something stronger.
- Let’s talk about listening deeply.
- Designing ethically.
- Advocating boldly.
- Healing holistically.
Let’s stop waiting for the MD to start doing the work.
Because the future of medicine isn’t just about those who want to help people. It’s about those who understand how.
Vaishali Jha is a premedical student.