tylermk96
Feb 28, 2014
Undergraduate / This I Believe ( Mock Essay) [2]
My English teacher is having us mimic the style of the memoir based web-story "This I Believe" off of NPR.
I'm looking for some overall feedback- this is an actual event from my near past and please do not be afraid to be harsh.
For years my mother spoke of leaving our home in favor of more welcoming environments. For years I laughed at the idea of leaving behind everything we knew in favor of the unknown. For years it was all a simple dream; something beyond my reach or comprehension. Little did I know that the unknown would soon be less and less of a joke and more of an impending, unescapable reality. We were leaving our home in Arizona in favor of the cooler temperatures of the exotic state of Michigan. The boiling temperatures in the desert land of Arizona were wearing my parents down; my father, a mechanic, could no longer handle the heat, and my mother could no longer bear working outside. For myself, I knew only three things; I would no longer see my friends, my dreams of graduating in the top five of my class were over and I refused to hold my family back. After the announcement was made, the planning commenced and boxes began to crowd our one-story home. Money was tight and our purchases were few and far between in our attempt to prepare for the upcoming day. Every hour leading up to the move was agony for me. I was a junior. I wanted to complete my final year with honors and prestige; however, I kept my mouth shut. Mom and dad were stressed enough as it was - they didn't need anything else to deal with, and it was time for some maturity on my behalf: I had to think of my family first. I made the necessary scholastic preparations, and my sister and I spent every free hour looking up schools in Michigan in order to determine our future courses.
The last week of school came and went like the flash of lightning during a thunderstorm. Good-byes were plentiful and many tears were shed, promises were made and promises were broken. The last week of school was my final opportunity to say things that weren't better left unsaid and apologize for past wrongs. It was my final attempt to tie all of my loose ends and make amends with old friends. I had taken my finals the week prior and I was physically ready to leave although I knew that a piece of my emotional state would forever remain in the Grand Canyon State. Never once did I think it necessary to raise complaint to my family, nor did I move to inhibit the precession. On the very last day before the move, the last box was packed and the once filled with life house became desolate and empty spare the few air mattresses that littered the floor. I spent the day outside, basking in the warmth of my last Arizona summer and made sure to take photos of our home and the surrounding landscape, watching as day became night. The day of the move, my eyesight was blurred with tears I refused to shed and I climbed into the moving truck with confidence. Without a backward glance, my family and I were off to a new adventure; one that took place in a mysterious state where only strangers dwelled. In the last few moments we spent in the Grand Canyon State, my home, I decided I believed in sacrifice, flexibility and selflessness - especially where family is concerned. I believe in putting others before myself.
My English teacher is having us mimic the style of the memoir based web-story "This I Believe" off of NPR.
I'm looking for some overall feedback- this is an actual event from my near past and please do not be afraid to be harsh.
For years my mother spoke of leaving our home in favor of more welcoming environments. For years I laughed at the idea of leaving behind everything we knew in favor of the unknown. For years it was all a simple dream; something beyond my reach or comprehension. Little did I know that the unknown would soon be less and less of a joke and more of an impending, unescapable reality. We were leaving our home in Arizona in favor of the cooler temperatures of the exotic state of Michigan. The boiling temperatures in the desert land of Arizona were wearing my parents down; my father, a mechanic, could no longer handle the heat, and my mother could no longer bear working outside. For myself, I knew only three things; I would no longer see my friends, my dreams of graduating in the top five of my class were over and I refused to hold my family back. After the announcement was made, the planning commenced and boxes began to crowd our one-story home. Money was tight and our purchases were few and far between in our attempt to prepare for the upcoming day. Every hour leading up to the move was agony for me. I was a junior. I wanted to complete my final year with honors and prestige; however, I kept my mouth shut. Mom and dad were stressed enough as it was - they didn't need anything else to deal with, and it was time for some maturity on my behalf: I had to think of my family first. I made the necessary scholastic preparations, and my sister and I spent every free hour looking up schools in Michigan in order to determine our future courses.
The last week of school came and went like the flash of lightning during a thunderstorm. Good-byes were plentiful and many tears were shed, promises were made and promises were broken. The last week of school was my final opportunity to say things that weren't better left unsaid and apologize for past wrongs. It was my final attempt to tie all of my loose ends and make amends with old friends. I had taken my finals the week prior and I was physically ready to leave although I knew that a piece of my emotional state would forever remain in the Grand Canyon State. Never once did I think it necessary to raise complaint to my family, nor did I move to inhibit the precession. On the very last day before the move, the last box was packed and the once filled with life house became desolate and empty spare the few air mattresses that littered the floor. I spent the day outside, basking in the warmth of my last Arizona summer and made sure to take photos of our home and the surrounding landscape, watching as day became night. The day of the move, my eyesight was blurred with tears I refused to shed and I climbed into the moving truck with confidence. Without a backward glance, my family and I were off to a new adventure; one that took place in a mysterious state where only strangers dwelled. In the last few moments we spent in the Grand Canyon State, my home, I decided I believed in sacrifice, flexibility and selflessness - especially where family is concerned. I believe in putting others before myself.
