Scholarship / Fostering dreams - My QuestBridge Bio Essay #2! [3]

Hi! This is my second take at an essay for the QuestBridge Prep Scholars program! I couldn't decide what topic I should focus on so I wrote two! I really want to get into the program but I'm having difficulty telling my story in a way that's both interesting yet convincing? Feedback would be greatly appreciated! Check out my other essay too in case you could think of any way I could combine them?

Here's the prompt:
We are interested in learning more about you and the context in which you have grown up, formed your aspirations, and accomplished your academic successes. Please describe the factors and challenges that have most shaped your personal life and aspirations. How have these factors helped you to grow?

One October morning, I woke up to a stranger sleeping in my room. Before that day, it was just my mother, my brother, and me for the longest time. My father left when I was young, and after years of waiting, I adapted to our new dynamic. I didn't know it then, but I'm certain I developed Metathesiophobia- the fear of change. I felt that the slightest change to our family, the slightest difference, would cause someone else to leave too. My mother must've felt differently, however, because she decided to become a foster mother. And trust me, there's no greater change to an eleven-year-old than suddenly sharing a room with an absolute stranger.

The first foster kid was difficult, to say the least. My routine life was thrown out the window as she threw tantrums, hollered obscenities, trashed her- my- room. We tried everything, but she refused to change, and consequently, she soon left our house. And while I was glad then to see her go, I wouldn't change that experience for she was the cold turkey to my change problem. After her, I couldn't understand why my mother would want to foster any more kids. They would only be a hassle. That's when my mom pulled me aside and explained it to me. Being the last one of her siblings to immigrate to America, my mother understood what loneliness felt like. That foster child was in pain because she was alone, and she acted the only way she knew how. At least I had my mother.

That realization encouraged me to be more open-minded and with each new kid, I grew. Instead of letting my mother handle them alone, I began to help out. When they needed help with homework, I volunteered. If my mother needed to go somewhere, I babysat. And soon enough, when a new kid arrived, I became the first one to greet them. I knew what it was like to miss a parent too.

Foster kids came and went, but I didn't feel as averse to the change as I initially did. Instead, I began to relish it. With each kid came another lesson to learn, another person to help, and another friend to make. Each kid taught me something- whether it be patience, empathy, or determination, and I wanted to do the same in return. I was always to be the one to be the first in my family to go to college, but despite her hard work, living off my mother's bus driver salary made the thought of paying for a higher education daunting.

I refused to let all my mother's sacrifice be in vain, however, so I dedicated myself to my studies, working hard in hopes of obtaining a scholarship that could help lessen our financial burden. But with the addition of the foster kids, I found myself not only working hard academically for my mother and me but them as well. Some of the kids come from homes that weren't supportive. They bounce from foster home to foster home, leaving them feeling unwanted and worthless. And most of them come from financial backgrounds like mine. But unlike me, they don't see college as an option. I want to be the one to prove them wrong. I want to prove to them that with hard work, they can be successful. In addition to the kids at my home, though, I also began volunteering at my local Boys & Girls Club. There's almost no better feeling than being the one to help someone else thrive- to be the one that listens and helps them with their problems.

I've grown a lot from when I was a little girl. In fact, I'm certain if she saw me now, all the change would scare her. But I'm no longer scared of the future. With all the lessons I've learned and displays of strength I've seen, I am nothing but determined to be the first to graduate from college. To show my family- biological and foster- that while you can't change the past, your future is up to you.

Word count- 684 Word limit-650

Scholarship / I got it from my Moma - Questbridge bio essay [3]

personal statement

Hi! I'm applying for the Questbridge scholar program, and this is my first time writing a personal statement. I'm concerned its focusing to heavily on my mom, but I'm not quite sure how to focus it on me more without losing the integrity of the essay. Any help would be appreciated! Thanks!

Here's the prompt: We are interested in learning more about you and the context in which you have grown up, formed your aspirations, and accomplished your academic successes. Please describe the factors and challenges that have most shaped your personal life and aspirations. How have these factors helped you to grow?

What is your first day of kindergarten memory? Maybe it's picking out that brand new backpack with a matching lunchbox or buying 10 different colored notebooks when you're only going to use 3. Maybe it's regretting the breakfast sandwich you had earlier that isn't quite sitting well, as your mom drives closer to the school. For me, it was waking up before the sun did. It was putting on a horrendous fluorescent yellow safety vest and feeling as pretty as two pennies. It was walking through a desolate dirt lot filled with bright yellow buses and feeling special as if I had VIP backstage passes. Why? Because my mom was the bus driver.

Born in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, my mother knows a thing about hardship. Being the last one out of her five siblings to immigrate to the U.S., she had trouble building a life for herself, especially with her limited English. Things worsened when her relationship with my father fell through, and she suddenly had to raise two kids on her own. But my mom did not crumble. She did not give up or give in to easy way outs. Instead, she got herself a job in a nursing home despite her accent. Despite her fear, she got into a car and taught herself to drive. Holding onto her faith in God, she worked long hours and still came home, ready to cook my brother and me a meal, ready to spend time with us. I never saw her cry, never saw her complain. She kept pushing through, and because of her, one of the earliest lessons I learned was perseverance.

As a kid, I never understood why my friends looked at me so strangely whenever I pridefully announced that my mother was a bus driver. To me, it was a thousand times better than her nursing home job. I'd see her in the morning and end my day riding that bus home with her- not to mention she was home during vacations. At that time, I thought that being a bus driver was all that plus a bag of chips, and I decided that I would become one just like my mother. But that's not what she wanted for my future, because behind every moring trip was exhaustion. Behind every completed route was an insult from a disrespectful child. My mother doesn't want that for my future. So she enforces the one thing she knew could give me more opportunities than she had- education.

Every night, she'd sit down with us and make sure our homework was done. If we were struggling with something, she'd do her very best to explain it to us, even if she never learned it herself. B's were barely acceptable, and God forbid C's stain report cards. I felt like she was holding me to higher expectations than everyone else, and didn't always understand why. But whereas before I felt angry, I feel nothing but appreciation now. I realize that because of her pressure, I know how to work hard. Because of her insistence, I know to keep my eyes on the prize. Because of her Love, I have the chance to a brighter future than she had.

Patience, above all, is one of the biggest gifts my mother gave me, however. Despite living better in America, my mother never forgot her roots. How alone she felt in Haiti while her mother was away working. So, on top of driving a bus, she also fosters children. Each one is different, and some are difficult, but my mom treats them with the same amount of love she shows my brother and me. And helping my mother as she sacrifices herself to each kid and helps them the same way she's helping me, has given me tolerance towards people, and I'm forever grateful to all my mother has taught me. Why? Because she is my hero.