A few years ago, my father found a new job in a different state, but I stayed behind to finish the school year. A devout Latter Day Saints family opted to take me in for the following months. Even though I wasn't religious, I would still go to church with them every Sunday. One day the bishop asked if I, along with other youths my age, would be interested in tutoring inner city kids. It was an opportunity to see another culture away from the congenial suburbs, so I said yes.
My student was a freshman named Tyrone. Ostensibly, he looked like the stereotypical "black man from the hood." He sagged his pants, carried a basketball, and even wore a comb in his afro, but one peculiar feature was a big blue notebook he carried under his arm even though he had a bag. His personality, though, was anything but. He lived with a single mother and was an ex-gangbanger, but he told me a "significant event" changed his life. Instead of embracing the hood, he desired to go to college and become a writer. Noticing the big blue notebook I asked what was written in it. It was his book of raps. When I asked what he wrote about, he told me it was on his perspectives and dreams. Because of my inherent naivety growing up in college towns and gated suburban communities, I haven't yet realized just how unique his aspirations were, given his background. But when he performed his raps, he made a connection from his world to mine. Through his word choices, rhyme schemes, references to culture, I was able to feel the ineffable emotions and themes from his life. Although I didn't suddenly reach an epiphany or suddenly empathized with inner city kids, I began to see something outside the culturally closed Chinese traditionalist philosophy I grew up with. I even felt a bit jealous of him ï that's right; a middle class suburbanite jealous of an inner city kid. I wanted something more than the academics and extra-curricular activities. I wanted to ability to express my thoughts and transmit feelings from my mind to others. I wanted something to understand myself with. So I said to Tyrone "teach me how to rap."
I grew up aspiring to be a leader by having superior skills, but meeting Tyrone taught me understanding. I was better in academics, but how could have I taught him if I couldn't relate? Learning to rap wasn't just learning another form of expression, it opened cultural awareness. There are thousands of quotes on the internet stressing the importance of diversity, but few ever tell why. Through my encounter, I discovered that diversity allows us to see from other perspectives. These perspectives add to the understanding of self, and of the world.
Be harsh, thanks!!
I like the material in the essay, but perhaps you should cut back on slang and replace them with apt vocabulary, for example "Black man from the hood" doesn't seem necessary. Your visual description alone suffices.
Another thing is I think you should talk more about what happened after you requested Tyrone to teach you how to rap instead of just stopping abruptly and tying the essay together.
Overall, great job!
Could you read my Notre-Dame supplements too? :)
