Write an essay which conveys to the reader a sense of who you are. Possible topics MAY include experiences that have shaped your life, the circumstances of your upbringing, the way you see the world or any personal theme which appeals to your imagination.
Does this response fit the prompt. How can I revise it to make it stronger?
Sometimes overcoming the barriers that life throws at us can feel daunting. We try to hide who we truly are in order to protect ourselves from the judgment and discrimination of those around us. In doing so, we end up drenched in fear to the point where escape is no longer possible. However, when we conquer our barriers we prove to ourselves that nothing can break our desire to keep moving forward. We also prove to ourselves that despite there being a cloudy day the sun will always come out and shine brighter tomorrow. It is this vision that keeps us from collapsing before ourselves.
Such is the case with my experience as an immigrant. Migrating into the United States from the Dominican Republic with my mother and sister was the biggest test of my life. At seven years old I had to leave behind my family, friends and the only neighborhood I had ever known. The hardest part was having to adapt to a new language and a culture that I was unfamiliar with. Within the first five years of living in the United States, my ability to translate words to English proved to be my worst enemy. There were times when my teachers would ask me to read out loud words that, no matter how hard I tried, did not make any sense to me. I would read and stumble upon the simplest words, such as kitchen, couch, and table. Students around me, who knew how to pronounce these words fluently, would giggle and cover their faces to disparage me. These moments did not stop until I had reached sixth grade. There were times when my teachers would scold those students who laughed at me and times when they would stand aside, in silence, disregarding the humiliating giggles of the other students.
During my early elementary school years, being laughed at because I could not accurately pronounce words was considered funny. I, however, saw this as an opportunity to show those who laughed at me that I could overcome this nightmare. I never got home with a tear rolling down my face because I knew that I had to be strong. I knew that I had to find the strength to peacefully fight off the giggles and rid myself off the language impairment that I had. I found such strength in seeing my mom get home from work late at night. Her commitment to support both my sister and I motivated me to want to learn English. By the age of ten I could speak English, almost fluently. All of this because of my nightly struggle to read stories such as, " Where the Wild Things Are" and "The Giving Tree."
Does this response fit the prompt. How can I revise it to make it stronger?
Sometimes overcoming the barriers that life throws at us can feel daunting. We try to hide who we truly are in order to protect ourselves from the judgment and discrimination of those around us. In doing so, we end up drenched in fear to the point where escape is no longer possible. However, when we conquer our barriers we prove to ourselves that nothing can break our desire to keep moving forward. We also prove to ourselves that despite there being a cloudy day the sun will always come out and shine brighter tomorrow. It is this vision that keeps us from collapsing before ourselves.
Such is the case with my experience as an immigrant. Migrating into the United States from the Dominican Republic with my mother and sister was the biggest test of my life. At seven years old I had to leave behind my family, friends and the only neighborhood I had ever known. The hardest part was having to adapt to a new language and a culture that I was unfamiliar with. Within the first five years of living in the United States, my ability to translate words to English proved to be my worst enemy. There were times when my teachers would ask me to read out loud words that, no matter how hard I tried, did not make any sense to me. I would read and stumble upon the simplest words, such as kitchen, couch, and table. Students around me, who knew how to pronounce these words fluently, would giggle and cover their faces to disparage me. These moments did not stop until I had reached sixth grade. There were times when my teachers would scold those students who laughed at me and times when they would stand aside, in silence, disregarding the humiliating giggles of the other students.
During my early elementary school years, being laughed at because I could not accurately pronounce words was considered funny. I, however, saw this as an opportunity to show those who laughed at me that I could overcome this nightmare. I never got home with a tear rolling down my face because I knew that I had to be strong. I knew that I had to find the strength to peacefully fight off the giggles and rid myself off the language impairment that I had. I found such strength in seeing my mom get home from work late at night. Her commitment to support both my sister and I motivated me to want to learn English. By the age of ten I could speak English, almost fluently. All of this because of my nightly struggle to read stories such as, " Where the Wild Things Are" and "The Giving Tree."
