"The culture we have does not make people feel good about themselves. And you to be strong enough to say if the culture doesn't work, don't buy it." -Morrie Schwartz

I finally got the chance to read Tuesdays with Morrie onin my senior year of high school, and when I finished reading it, I was completely captivated by Morrie Schwartz's call to reject society's restrictive culture which dictates how men and women should act, puts money and success above love and family, and overlooks the importance of the wise elderly. Until his last breath, Morrie believed that the culture never worked. He refused to give in to the popular culture, thinking that there must be a better culture to follow ; (reword -awkward) in his mind, a culture that allows people to openly express emotion, to start living their own dreams, and to accept the old for their wisdom is ideal. (this sentence is quite wordy and should be summarized)

I have heard of so many people who preach about(reword) individualism and independence but Morrie is the first person that captivated (another word, since you used this above maybe intrigued) me. He was sincere and honest; and thus, he was easily believable. His actions mirrored his teachings. In numerous occassions, Mitch Albom, the author of the book, narrates instances when Morrie shamelessly cried during their meetings. In today's society, crying is a sign of weakness and sometimes femininity. Morrie, however, does not care about the norms. He is comfortable enough with his identity that he is not embarrassed about crying. In fact, he thinks that a person who embraces their emotions is a fearless person. Men who act out of the norm may get stares and jeers from people, but to face those taunts takes a real man.

I, like Morrie, used tears to show emotion. However, in a country like the Philippines, crying is often seen as a sign of weakness, which provided moments of conflict with some of my friends. There was a time when I tried to defend a friend of mine from someone who was making fun of himwho was being made fun of. Sitting with a blanched face, my friend was terrorized by a bully with degrading verbal attacks. After speaking my mind and trying to stop him, the bully targeted his attacks to me, telling me how I should stop meddling, coupled with some invectives. Despite the lack of magnitude of his words, tears welled up in my eyes. Nevertheless, I proceeded to tell him off, with my mouth spewing out fiery words that was caused by my anger. I was not crying because of his hurtful comments. My anger was more about how one of my friends was not accepting of my own personality. (I am confused here though, you say you were not crying because of the hurtful comments, but then pin your anger on how your friend did not accept your personality - but nowhere before do I see mention of your friend not accepting your personality)

Reflecting on the aftermath of that verbal spat, I was concerned onwith how my friends would viewperceive my actions. I was scared that everybodythey would look down on me. After much consideration, I just said, "Who cares?" I generalized (not sure if this fits contextually) that my tears did not mean that I am weak and pathetic; it meant that I am strong enough to express my emotions. (nice) I would not let anybody coerce me into compromising my personality. Being expressive is part of who I am and I would not let anyone take that away from me. Like Morrie, I shouldwould not care about what other people say about my actions. His philosophy reinforced my belief, and it led me to apply this idea to my daily life. It taught me to be strong enough to express myself, and also to be respectful of other people's choices and not be critical of other people's actions.

In a sense, I believe the oddness of this word is what makes it my favorite.

Like the word pulchritude, I am not what I seem to be

With my baby face and short stature, from a single glance one would assume I am reserved, quiet, and cautious by nature.

But on the contrary , when one looks deeper they soon discover that I love to talk, laugh, and meet new people.

While my personality is not anticipated and may come as a surprise, it contributes to the pulchritude of my individuality

Without even taking a second glance at the rest of the playground, I ran to the Turtle that loomed in the back of the playground.

I realize now that it was only supposed to be decoration,

The inside of the Turtle was my palace, and I was theits queen

Nothing else could match it and after I moved away from the city, I just couldn't find a better place to get lost in as much as the Turtle

"My only Christmaswish is my father to get better soon"(awkward sounding)I would hear my brother saying every December.My brother would say every Christmas holiday.(this still sound weird in my mind so find a better way to express it)In my mind the only question I could make was: How do you explain to a 10ten year old kid that something is not reversible?(awkward) My father's health state was awas in a deep coma. The doctors said that he was not in a vegetative state because of different body reactions he did havehad . No one could understandunderstood his positioncondition;and the doctors described it as "an impressive case".

My mother tried, was working hard to give us the things we neededworked hard to give us what we needed. I was the middle sister but with my sister far away someone needed to take the responsibility of the older sister.but I took on the responsibility of the older sister since my eldest sister was (insert where she was instead of far away). Thirteen years old is not old enough to say that you are mature but someone needed to grow up fasterhad to step up to the plate . I wanted to give them (I thought you only had a younger brother and an older sis? who is them) the peace they neededdeserved.The biggest responsibility, I was not asked to take it.I was not asked to, I wanted toBeing my brother the only boySince my brother was the only boy, I learned how to ride a bike and play football to teach him. teach him, play football... and now check his school work.I checked his homework to ensure he was excelling in school.I wanted him to feel proud of himself and to not lack anything in comparison to the people that surrounded him.I wanted him to feel proud, and to not lack...(you should express this better)

Visiting time was exactlyonean hour. (not sure the relevance of this sentence)At four pm sharp I had to be there if I wanted to take the most time out of it, the most profit.I always went at 4PM sharp on order to make the most out of my visit.I remember entering the whitest room I have seen, clothes, walls, the color.I would always marvel at the stark whiteness of the room, the clothes, (did he have white clothes??) walls and floors were so bland.(or something to that extent if you don't wanna use bland) I started tellingwould tell him about my day, my adventures, my fears, my problems... and I would not receive an answer.but there was never an answer. I knew I was not going toI would not get one, but "hope is the last thing you lose", and I really wanted to hear one word or feel a squeeze in my hand. The doctors said that dadhe could not understand what I said, that his condition did not allow him . But in that time, the physical condition was the less important(kind of confusing)His big green eyes were staring at me; he was there when he was not supposed to be(reword) I wanted a scientific answer, an explanation,of this connection.a scientific answer.Even though I was raised in a Catholic family, I was taught that I should believe in facts more than in emotions. (you should connect Catholic more with the latter part of the sentence)But, those connections I heard before and refused to believe were as real as mine. Being there was for me like entering another world.(confusing - what are you trying to say here?)

When I got out of that small world, life as I know it was still there and it had to continue. To explain the health condition was the hardest, I would just avoid questions because I felt that even if I was seen as a person with strong character people would pity my situation. I saw myself sitting in the class and being asked the question: What is a human being? To what extent are we humans? My mind was blank, I wanted to say all what I thought but I could not. Until this I cannot remember of a time that I felt so insecure of myself and afraid. I grew up reading books, news and sitting in the adults tables inat the adult tables at house parties. My confidence was over boosted , (express differently) but this time it was different: my legs were shaking and my throat was clogged, as if something was pushing it. I could understand then what it really felt to be scared of being judged for what you think. That feeling never came to my mind before when I would criticize people for being "shy" or "scared".

"Goodbye" I said the 24 of august... after living in this situation for almost 5 years. I understood it, it was not my fault, the situation was not reversible, I just had to learn to live. What I learned in this time of my life shaped the person who I am. The painful situation made me grow up. And this, his struggle... was our family struggle as well.

but when I'm one on one with someone I'm not familiar with, my mouth shuts up like Fort Knox.

The thought of calling a customer service representative or enduring a job interview is nightmarish for me.

and that's okay with me

I had been a high-achieving student as the valedictorian of my class. Being first had its price.

familiarized myself with the efforts made to understand our singular position

Johns' Hopkins