Undergraduate / UT Admissions essay: influential person [9]

prompt:Choose an issue of importance to you--the issue could be personal, school related, local, political, or international in scope--and write an essay in which you explain the significance of that issue to yourself, your family, your community, or your generation.

I hope it's not too cliche or anything because I'm writing about a typical family member (though it's all very true). this is my first post :) I really need help on the overall flow of ideas. i think it sounds kinda awkward at certain places.

"Bie hai pa," he said to me. Don't be afraid.

But all I could think about was my face (or behind for that matter) tragically meeting the concrete. I thought: there is no way I'm going to survive this test on eight miniature wheels. Fortunately, I had a coach by my side the whole way. He didn't carry an intimidating red whistle around his neck, nor did he hurl commands at me. In fact, he was the complete opposite of the typical instructor that people imagine. Not only did he teach me how to roller-skate at a young age, but he also gave me the confidence and strength I needed later on in life. He is my lifetime mentor--my father.

On my seventh birthday, my dad bought me a colorful helmet and a pair of roller blades for my birthday gift. "I'll teach you," he assured me. Right after my birthday party, he carried me out of the apartment, plopped me onto the concrete sidewalk with my new skates on, and wrapped me with all kinds of pads around my knees, elbows, and hands. I looked like a miniature warrior ready to combat anything. In actuality, I felt the complete opposite. As soon as I began moving, I was tumbling backwards and suppressing the urge to cry. I clenched my dad's arm as tightly as possible and refused to release him. He tried to calm me down, telling me to bend my knees more. Then he did the unthinkable. Without a single warning, he let go of my hand as I leaned forward. The inevitable came, and I had no chance but to crash to the ground. I wanted to cry out loud in frustration and ask why he did that. "Did that hurt?" he asked pulling me back to my feet with a smile. "No," I simply responded, but I was still in shock. "Do it again," he instructed. "Be sure to lean forward and not backwards." I drew in a deep breath and followed his advice. After toppling over and over again, I succeeded in skating down the sidewalk without any help whatsoever. I couldn't believe it.

It's amazing how such a small snippet of memory can have such a great impact. Looking back on that day, I realize the meaning behind my father's mysterious smile. He wanted me to get a taste of what falling for the first time felt like. He wanted me to conquer my fear of the unknown and to not be discouraged in the process, teaching me a valuable lesson: Every plunge into uncertainty--every risk--is a closer step to self-confidence and a step away from doubt. Although he never had the luxury of much parental support when he was my age, my father wanted me to grow up knowing that I did. His definition of support wasn't complete guidance or nurture: it was simply being an encouraging voice in the background--the same voice that carried me through my first skating lesson and one that will always give me reassurance.