cubecul
Sep 10, 2010
Undergraduate / Common App - Dear Mom and Dad, DECA campaign [8]
I suppose this can fall under topic 6.
Dear Mom and Dad,
On the first day of school, there's always that one thing people tell you to talk about. I grew up in ________. The first day of school, we always want to know where Jenny or Craig grew up. These days, I make that clear distinction between where we grew up and where we were raised. I was raised by you two both in Union City and in Pleasanton, California. I grew up in Irvine, California during last year's DECA State Conference. I grew up there. It only took two days, and I grew up.
Let me explain, Mom and Dad. When I was being raised, I had both of you to turn to if I ever had a problem. You could suggest something, I could agree to one or a few, and if I ever needed help, someone to turn to, a lending hand, I went to you. You bailed me out or nudged me along the best you could. I'm thankful for that. But that's different from how I grew up. When I grew up, I became a man. Up until then, I was being raised, still a child at 16 years of age.
When I became a candidate to be DECA State President, miles of hurdles faced me and my DECA blazer. Before I left for the airport, you told me you supported me, but I knew this would be different. I wasn't particularly an outgoing person. I had ideas, but expressing them like the candidate two booths over was more complicated than learning antiderivatives. Holding a conversation with a delegate is as much of a chore as cleaning the bathrooms. The first day of campaign took forever to get through because of my social skills, or rather, social kills.
The situation of having huge goals to accomplish without you standing next to me was a new one. There were no hands on my shoulders, and if I fell, I would taste the floor instead of be thrown back up into the ring. I was forced to develop for myself. Nobody to turn to, nobody's mind to rely on. Nobody knew the answer, so I had to create one.
Day two began and ended in a flash. You know how they say time flies when you're having fun? Look at me, Mom and Dad. I, the reserved boy who could study better than he could converse with someone, am now sprinting up and down the halls waving a sign and screaming "Huang on! We're moving forward!". We were slapping stickers on people's faces. Brochures flew out of my booth like crazy. I gained supporters who weren't even delegates. I had become Pete Huang On for the day. My slogan had gone viral. That's what pulled the final vote into a three-vote swing.
So, Mom and Dad, please don't say I spend too much time with DECA. Please don't say spending those hours preparing for the election was useless because I hadn't won. Look at me, Mom and Dad. Have you noticed I've been hanging out a bit during the weekends? Have you noticed my speech grades have gone from a D+ to an A+ between 9th grade and 11th grade? Do you know what made that happen? It's DECA, Mom and Dad. It's DECA. When I talk about DECA, talk about the competition, reminisce about the election, I do it because I love what I do and what I have done. There's a reason I haven't left DECA even when your other son Perry told me that "DECA is useless" and that it wouldn't help my college application. I've changed, Mom and Dad, and I want to see what else I can improve before I lose these final opportunities.
Last time, you told me you supported me in my campaign, even though you later told me you didn't think I'd go through with it. This time, before I leave for college, I want to ask some final things of you both. Please support what I have done in high school with no regrets. Please don't think about what my GPA could have been without so much investment in DECA. Please don't think about what other person your son could have been. Please support me in general, not just in my campaign. In general.
Your son,
_______
I suppose this can fall under topic 6.
Dear Mom and Dad,
On the first day of school, there's always that one thing people tell you to talk about. I grew up in ________. The first day of school, we always want to know where Jenny or Craig grew up. These days, I make that clear distinction between where we grew up and where we were raised. I was raised by you two both in Union City and in Pleasanton, California. I grew up in Irvine, California during last year's DECA State Conference. I grew up there. It only took two days, and I grew up.
Let me explain, Mom and Dad. When I was being raised, I had both of you to turn to if I ever had a problem. You could suggest something, I could agree to one or a few, and if I ever needed help, someone to turn to, a lending hand, I went to you. You bailed me out or nudged me along the best you could. I'm thankful for that. But that's different from how I grew up. When I grew up, I became a man. Up until then, I was being raised, still a child at 16 years of age.
When I became a candidate to be DECA State President, miles of hurdles faced me and my DECA blazer. Before I left for the airport, you told me you supported me, but I knew this would be different. I wasn't particularly an outgoing person. I had ideas, but expressing them like the candidate two booths over was more complicated than learning antiderivatives. Holding a conversation with a delegate is as much of a chore as cleaning the bathrooms. The first day of campaign took forever to get through because of my social skills, or rather, social kills.
The situation of having huge goals to accomplish without you standing next to me was a new one. There were no hands on my shoulders, and if I fell, I would taste the floor instead of be thrown back up into the ring. I was forced to develop for myself. Nobody to turn to, nobody's mind to rely on. Nobody knew the answer, so I had to create one.
Day two began and ended in a flash. You know how they say time flies when you're having fun? Look at me, Mom and Dad. I, the reserved boy who could study better than he could converse with someone, am now sprinting up and down the halls waving a sign and screaming "Huang on! We're moving forward!". We were slapping stickers on people's faces. Brochures flew out of my booth like crazy. I gained supporters who weren't even delegates. I had become Pete Huang On for the day. My slogan had gone viral. That's what pulled the final vote into a three-vote swing.
So, Mom and Dad, please don't say I spend too much time with DECA. Please don't say spending those hours preparing for the election was useless because I hadn't won. Look at me, Mom and Dad. Have you noticed I've been hanging out a bit during the weekends? Have you noticed my speech grades have gone from a D+ to an A+ between 9th grade and 11th grade? Do you know what made that happen? It's DECA, Mom and Dad. It's DECA. When I talk about DECA, talk about the competition, reminisce about the election, I do it because I love what I do and what I have done. There's a reason I haven't left DECA even when your other son Perry told me that "DECA is useless" and that it wouldn't help my college application. I've changed, Mom and Dad, and I want to see what else I can improve before I lose these final opportunities.
Last time, you told me you supported me in my campaign, even though you later told me you didn't think I'd go through with it. This time, before I leave for college, I want to ask some final things of you both. Please support what I have done in high school with no regrets. Please don't think about what my GPA could have been without so much investment in DECA. Please don't think about what other person your son could have been. Please support me in general, not just in my campaign. In general.
Your son,
_______