Undergraduate / Mexican Drug Violence and Myself. UT Austin app essay B [7]

I'm having a hard time concluding my essay, and I was wondering if someone could review the rest of it? There are no word limits, and any possible suggestions you could make are greatly appreciated :)

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.

Something that I looked forward to in middle school was the summer I was old enough to travel to El Paso's sister city, Juárez, Mexico, with the high school youth group at my church. They would go to a little impoverished community within the city for a week to build bunk beds, and have Vacation Bible School crafts and stories to entertain the children. The summer of 2007 was the summer going into freshman year, and I was finally old enough to attend the mission trip I had looked forward to for years. We left very early on a hot Monday morning to beat the daily traffic crossing the Stanton Street Port into Mexico. It was a whole new world to me. By the time we got out to our work area, it was high noon, and about 110 degrees. We were introduced to the four families we would be helping out, and we got to work. There were two shifts, setting up the bunk beds, and working Vacation Bible School. My first shift was Vacation Bible School, where I soon fell in love with this barefooted three year old girl named Karina. I was helping her use some scissors and trying to converse with her in my broken Spanish when I realized that we were there to improve her life, even if it was just giving her a bed of her own to sleep in.

A couple of hours later, it was time to switch shifts. We carefully picked our way across an unpaved dirt road filled with glass shards and cigarette butts. We were approached by feral dogs covered in fleas, searching for morsels of food. When we finally arrived at the work station, the homes caught me by surprise. I am still not quite sure what I was expecting, but I was shocked to see that these "homes" were one room spaces made from dried mud, cardboard, and sheets of plywood. They had no windows, no bathrooms, their front doors consisted of a piece of PVC pipe and an old ratty shower curtain hanging from it. Their kitchens were just a little open flame in the corner of the house near the door. After getting over my initial shock, the real work began. We lugged large pieces of wood into the homes and very carefully maneuvered ourselves around to assemble the beds. After about an hour of fussing with screwing pieces together, and squeezing in and out of the stuffy room, we had successfully assembled our first bunk bed. The expression on the young mothers face brought tears to my eyes. She was so thankful that we could help her growing family without anything in return. This was the moment that I decided helping people was definitely something I enjoy doing and something that I could continue doing for the rest of my life.

Throughout the rest of the week, we saw many heartbreaking scenarios. There were families of eight living in broken down school buses, many people walking around in the Mercado without shoes, and elderly just sitting on the side of the dirt roads, waiting for a miracle. By the end of the week, I knew that this trip had changed me. I wanted to come back as often as I could to make their quality of life just a little bit better.

Unfortunately, a couple months later, the violence in El Paso's sister city began when the Sinaloa cartel boss Joaquin Guzman and the Juárez cartel boss Vicente Carrillo Fuentes began fighting over drug routes. Since then, in Juárez alone, there have been 2,550 drug-war related deaths. There are bullets constantly flying, and the police and local officials are too corrupt to stop it. The Mexican military is doing their best to manage the drug trade and the violence now, but the issue was ignored for too long to easily bring it under control. To the "drug lords", life has no value. They have resorted to kidnapping innocent citizens, robbing banks, and carjacking. Their bullets do not recognize Mexicans or Americans, nor children, teens, students, parents, husbands, wives, brothers, and sisters. All they are concerned with is their personal profit. Hundreds of refugees have crossed the U.S. border to escape the domestic misery of violence, failed economic policy, poverty, hunger, joblessness, and the mindless cruelty and injustice of a criminal state. I always wonder if little Karina is now living happily in the states, or if she is suffering in her broken and corrupt state.

The violence that is fifteen miles away from my house, has significantly affected me because I live in the United States' second safest city. The border is very secure, but stray bullets have traveled far enough hit the University of Texas at El Paso and our City Hall. I am not able to travel across the border anymore because most missionaries do not dare to. From the safety of the United States, I am still able to do little things like donate items to the Juárez orphanages. When the drug-war is finally resolved, I would like to resume missionary activities to help them restore their communities.

Undergraduate / Life with a German. UT Austin (A) Admission Essay [3]

I've worked on this essay for two days and I'd really appreciate another set of eyes reading it.

Write an essay in which you tell us about someone who has made an impact on your life and explain how and why this person is important to you.

In 1929, Henny Brehl was born in Emden, Germany, which at the time was Nazi Germany. Soon after she was born, her mother died, and since her father was an alcoholic, she was placed in an orphanage. Luckily, her grandparents adopted her soon after, but it was the start of a rough life. Her grandfather, a fisherman, was arrested and thrown in a concentration camp for helping Jewish families escape to Switzerland on his boat. Her grammar school was bombed in 1941; therefore her education came to an abrupt and final halt when she was only twelve years old. Since she could not return to school, she cooked, cleaned, and helped care for her aunt's three children. Unknowingly, caring for others would become her life's work.

She married an American soldier, Donald Skibo, and relocated to El Paso, Texas, in 1955. After a couple years of marriage, they had three daughters, Cynthia, Patricia, and Janet. When her husband retired from the military, he became a truck driver and was often away from home. She essentially became a single mother, supporting her three daughters in every way except financially. After her daughters were grown, married, and had children of their own, she became the caretaker of her grandchildren. Now, at the age of eighty-one, and as a mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother, she is still always there for all of them.

This strong-willed, tough, loving woman is my Oma. She is my mother's mother, and I am one of the grandchildren she took care of when my mother went back to work after I was born. She began watching over me when I was six months old, and for years after that she was always there, making me dinner, taking me to soccer practice, making sure I finished my homework, taking care of me when I was sick, and always taking the time to listen to me, no matter what I had to say. I have heard that personality is set at a young age, and I believe she had a lot to do with mine. She has influenced me because I have seen her struggle with her health in her typical stubborn German way. She has shown me that giving up is not an option. She does not take no for an answer if it is not what she wants to hear.

She became very sick in 1995 and had a pacemaker inserted because her heartbeat was irregular. To this day, she swears she does not need it. She has developed arthritis in her knees, feet, and hands with age, but she still insists on cutting her own grass in the front and backyard once a week, and she tends to her plants and flowers on her hands and knees for hours every weekend. She does not let her ailments restrict her. This makes me realize that if an eighty-one year old woman can get up and do chores and help others every single day, I can get up, get everything done, and succeed at my goals also. Her passion for life inspires me to have those same passions. I would pass up a day with my friends to stay home with my Oma and just enjoy her company. Her strong family value of always being there for her daughters and grandchildren influences me to always be there for my younger sister and brother, my family, and for my friends. I am always willing to help others no matter the situation, and I thank her for my passion to do so.

Because of her, my education is of greatest importance to me. She influenced me to strive to make high marks and to ask for help when I need it because "failing is not taking advantage of public school" and that it is humble to seek support. When I was thirteen, I remember the disappointment my Oma voiced when my older cousin dropped out of college to get married. She could not understand what could possibly be more important than a higher education. I share this frustration with her; since then, I promised myself nothing was going to interfere with me going to the college of my dreams and getting the higher education I need to succeed in the real world.

Involving myself in the community to make changes and help others was due to her influence. When we would go grocery shopping around the holidays, she would always grab a couple extra cans of green beans and cream of mushroom soup to drop in the donation box on our way out. When we were stopped at a red light, she would not hesitate to dig through her wallet for a couple of coins to give to the homeless man standing on the corner. Even though I was scared out of my wits as she rolled down the car window and reached out to him, I told myself when I was old enough I would do the same. Now, I enjoy doing community service and service projects with the National Honor Society and Student Council. During the summer, I also love volunteering at church summer camps for underprivileged children in the El Paso area. I plan to continue involving myself in the community because making a difference will positively affect others.

My Oma Henny means the world to me because she has really impacted how I make decisions and she has influenced my personality. She lived through and experienced a very dark time in history. She has seen atrocities that I hope to never experience in my life time. However, my Oma's life experience has engrained in me what wonderful educational opportunities I have, and that I should do everything in my power to take advantage of them. Because of her strong-will, I am positive and I bring that energy into all of my activities. When I graduate from college, I will be the first person on her side of the family to graduate with a four year degree; I am very proud of that, and I want her to be proud too. Thanks to her, I am the person I am today.