Mariam Braimah ’13 was in eighth grade when she told her parents she didn’t want to be a doctor.
Braimah’s parents—immigrants from Nigeria—had long wanted their Brooklyn-born daughter to go into medicine. In her parents’ minds, becoming a doctor “is a sure bet at being successful.”
“I can’t really say what’s expected of African-Americans, but Nigerian families expect something in the medical field, at worst a lawyer,” Braimah says of her parents’ expectations.
But, instead of spending her days in lab, Braimah plans to concentrate in History of Art and Architecture or a special concentration in architecture.
While she’s straying from her parents’ ideal career path, Braimah says it’s an easier pill for her parents’ to swallow for one reason—she’s studying at Harvard.
Despite the fact that she is the daughter of Nigerian immigrants and not from Nigeria herself, Braimah still shares a common burden with many students from developing countries: the pressure to study a “practical” field, such as medicine, science, or engineering.
CULTURAL DIFFERENCES
A liberal arts education system like Harvard’s does not exist in many countries, such as in Kenya, home of Gerishom Gimaiyo ’13.
Gimaiyo says he originally planned to attend medical school in Kenya.
But as he awaited entrance to the university—all Kenyan students wait at least a year after high school before attending college—he decided to go to Harvard instead.
Director of International Admissions Robin M. Worth ’81 says she often finds it difficult to explain the benefits of a liberal arts education to students in developing countries where university education is designed to prepare students for particular professions.
Gimaiyo echoes this idea, noting that Harvard’s curricular structure differs widely from the studies his peers pursue in Kenya, where students take nearly all the same courses.
“The U.S. system provides the opportunity to ‘find yourself,’” Gimaiyo says.
Since coming to Harvard, Gimaiyo has decided to concentrate in economics, though his decision may not be easily understood back in Kenya.
“[My doctor] asked what I was going to do [at Harvard], when I told him economics, he asked why I was leaving medicine to do some ‘funny thing,’” Gimaiyo says.