halokenisis
Nov 22, 2015
Undergraduate / I thought she was DEAD - [UC Prompt 2] [14]
Hi everyone, this is my essay for the UC app. I had a lot of difficulty writing this essay and keeping control of my writing. There are areas of my concern such as, making sure the essay focuses on me, how can I cut it down without dwindling its meaning, and is it impactful/insightful to revealing the person I am.
UC Prompt 2: Tell us about a personal quality, talent, or accomplishment, contribution, or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud and how does it relate to the person you are?
I thought she was dead.
Though a petite woman, my mom was stronger than looks gave her credit for. Fleeing war-torn Vietnam at 19, with nothing but straw sandals on her feet, she learned how to survive in America. Despite being diagnosed with chronic Hepatitis B, she insisted to continue working to make ends meet. She served as a pillar of strength, cementing the values I strive to live by. The night my dad and I found her on the kitchen floor was the scariest night of my life. Even in her depression, shadowed in my father's infidelity, I never fathomed that my mom would have attempted suicide or that it would have made me a better person.
Overnight, the home I was familiar with vanished as my mom remained under medical and psychiatric care for months. For months, the walls were tinged melancholy blue; the air, still; the space, barren. For months, the house was ghost quiet, except for the occasional swing of the front door that unveiled a wasteland of furniture and grayed family photos. For months, there was harpish singing to Vietnamese karaoke no more.
In her absence, I felt abandoned and part of me resented her for it. Maybe, because I was impacted into a wall of reality where I couldn't depend on her. My dad couldn't take time off of work so, I had to assume the role of my mom. I found myself responsible for organizing our bills and explaining her condition to family members, since my dad speaks little English. I taught myself to cook warm meals for my dad and me, scouring through her handwritten recipes to find a taste of home again. With time, my anger eased. With every fold of laundry, every whisk of the toilet bowl, every time I found myself filling in her shoes, my gratitude for her grew. I found myself on a quest to live a life my mom would be proud of. My anger and entitlement transformed into empathy and soon, I wasn't merely empathizing; I was experiencing what it meant to be a lone pillar, holding up a shaky roof.
After what seemed like a lifetime, my mom was discharged from the hospital - she had come back from the dead. Although I didn't actually lose my mom, I understand the deepest meanings of grief and inherently, the value of life. Despite the trauma, I wouldn't take my experience back for anything else. Her absence served as an outreach for me to climb out of childhood: I gained an unimaginable resilience, gratitude, and perspective. I thought my mother was immune to the throngs of life, but I've realized that even the strongest of pillars can use reinforcements. Because of this, I try my best to mitigate my parents struggles: after leaving Academic Decathlon at 6:30 PM, I spend my free time tutoring students to help pay for my mother's Hepatitis B medication. It means the world to me, that I understand the people in my life and that they know I care. I even smile and wave at strangers, knowing that even they have troubles, hoping to brighten their day. My experiences in life haven't been the easiest and ironically, I've become the biggest optimist. I face my obstacles with alacrity, knowing that adversity breeds growth, that "this too, shall pass." I'm not the broken girl who found her mother, cold, on the kitchen floor. I'm a pillar of strength.
Word Count: 576
Hi everyone, this is my essay for the UC app. I had a lot of difficulty writing this essay and keeping control of my writing. There are areas of my concern such as, making sure the essay focuses on me, how can I cut it down without dwindling its meaning, and is it impactful/insightful to revealing the person I am.
UC Prompt 2: Tell us about a personal quality, talent, or accomplishment, contribution, or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud and how does it relate to the person you are?
I thought she was dead.
Though a petite woman, my mom was stronger than looks gave her credit for. Fleeing war-torn Vietnam at 19, with nothing but straw sandals on her feet, she learned how to survive in America. Despite being diagnosed with chronic Hepatitis B, she insisted to continue working to make ends meet. She served as a pillar of strength, cementing the values I strive to live by. The night my dad and I found her on the kitchen floor was the scariest night of my life. Even in her depression, shadowed in my father's infidelity, I never fathomed that my mom would have attempted suicide or that it would have made me a better person.
Overnight, the home I was familiar with vanished as my mom remained under medical and psychiatric care for months. For months, the walls were tinged melancholy blue; the air, still; the space, barren. For months, the house was ghost quiet, except for the occasional swing of the front door that unveiled a wasteland of furniture and grayed family photos. For months, there was harpish singing to Vietnamese karaoke no more.
In her absence, I felt abandoned and part of me resented her for it. Maybe, because I was impacted into a wall of reality where I couldn't depend on her. My dad couldn't take time off of work so, I had to assume the role of my mom. I found myself responsible for organizing our bills and explaining her condition to family members, since my dad speaks little English. I taught myself to cook warm meals for my dad and me, scouring through her handwritten recipes to find a taste of home again. With time, my anger eased. With every fold of laundry, every whisk of the toilet bowl, every time I found myself filling in her shoes, my gratitude for her grew. I found myself on a quest to live a life my mom would be proud of. My anger and entitlement transformed into empathy and soon, I wasn't merely empathizing; I was experiencing what it meant to be a lone pillar, holding up a shaky roof.
After what seemed like a lifetime, my mom was discharged from the hospital - she had come back from the dead. Although I didn't actually lose my mom, I understand the deepest meanings of grief and inherently, the value of life. Despite the trauma, I wouldn't take my experience back for anything else. Her absence served as an outreach for me to climb out of childhood: I gained an unimaginable resilience, gratitude, and perspective. I thought my mother was immune to the throngs of life, but I've realized that even the strongest of pillars can use reinforcements. Because of this, I try my best to mitigate my parents struggles: after leaving Academic Decathlon at 6:30 PM, I spend my free time tutoring students to help pay for my mother's Hepatitis B medication. It means the world to me, that I understand the people in my life and that they know I care. I even smile and wave at strangers, knowing that even they have troubles, hoping to brighten their day. My experiences in life haven't been the easiest and ironically, I've become the biggest optimist. I face my obstacles with alacrity, knowing that adversity breeds growth, that "this too, shall pass." I'm not the broken girl who found her mother, cold, on the kitchen floor. I'm a pillar of strength.
Word Count: 576