Hi, please help me over my scholarship essay for DePauw, deadline is March 09, and I only got invitation letter on March 01 =.=. Thank you guys a lot.
Here's the prompt
Please address the following in no more than two to three, single spaced pages (please use 12 point font and 1" margins). The Faculty Selection Committee will evaluate your essay based on clarity of thought and organization of the essay.
DePauw's Ubben Lecture series recently brought Greg Mortenson, author of "Three Cups of Tea: One Man's Mission to Promote Peace ... One School at a Time," to campus. Mortenson has spent much time during the last fifteen years building schools in rural Pakistan and Afghanistan. During his lecture, he stated, "...the real enemy -- whether it's in Africa or Afghanistan or here in the U.S. -- the real enemy is ignorance, and it's ignorance that breeds hatred. And to overcome ignorance, we need to have courage, we need to have compassion, and most of all, I think what's so important is that we need to have education." He went on to say, "What I'm trying to share in [my new book] is that, really, all of us can make a difference, and I also think that it's so important that we exude hope, love and compassion -- all of those things -- it's really what's going to bring about a better world."
To what cause would you commit a substantial amount of time and energy to bring hope to those in need? How would you use your education to support these efforts?
-------------------
I was walking on a boundless prairie. The wind was tickling my ears, whispering something; its tenderness made me feel safe and secure. Suddenly, the sky changed from blue to an ominous red, while the wind stopped caressing and started raging. I could not feel calm any longer, and instinctively, I began to run. The faster I ran, the harsher the wind slapped my face. I knew that this wasn't a fair race, but I kept running ... I ran ... I ran. The wind stopped, I stopped, and I realized that I was standing on the same starting point all along; it was futile escaping such infinite place, I turned my head around, there was only grass, grass, and grass. The sky changed its color again, to a hopeless black. I gave up the idea of escaping this place; it was darkness everywhere ...
Bounced up from my bed, "such a weird dream" I thought. The apprehension of being stuck there still lingered on me; luckily, it was just a nightmare. Ironically, on another bed, another boy was living the same nightmare. His bed was truly a limitless prairie: he could never get out of the bed by himself; he was disabled.
That kind of dream made me recall my trips to Thai Nguyen province to conduct a survey for Humanitarian Services for Children of Vietnam organization. The purpose of the survey was to learn more about the background as well as the daily life of the people who were going to receive free wheelchairs, so we could gauge how much their lives would be improved one year later with those wheelchairs. We volunteers asked the receivers multiple-choice questions, however, they tended to give us more information than to follow the dull letter A,B,C ... in the answer sheets. I had thought of how dreadful it was to be paralyzed before, but through their story, I knew that my imagination was just a proportion of the reality.
I always admired the mother who cared everything for her twenty-seven-year-old son, who suffered from polio since childhood. The son, who would have been the pillar of the family, now sat in the wheelchair in front of me, looked just like a twelve-year-old boy. He couldn't do anything by himself; he even needed help from his mother only to sit still on the chair. The son wasn't conscious about his condition, as his nervous system was also damaged; however, his mother had born with it for 27 years. She kept talking about her son when I asked her survey questions. Of course I dared not interrupt her story for she was sharing with me her pain, and the least I could do was to listen. "I hope so", she responded to the question "Do you think the wheelchair will make his (her son) life better?" I saw that hope was all she could do at that moment, and also the only thing we volunteers could give her. Hope that she could still look after her son for the continuing years; hope that our free wheelchair - such an expensive thing for her family - would help her son move from place to place easier.
I remembered clearly how sorry I felt for her, and how burning I wanted to alleviate her trouble. That was simply sympathy, the sentiment that linked us human together, and also what have driven me to be a volunteer. Calling back the dreams of being stuck in one place, unable to move an inch, to raise even an arm, I could have a little taste of the life of those disadvantaged people. The fear was so much that I started struggling in vain trying to get out, just to notice that I was sleeping on my bed, how fortunately. I have comprehended their hopelessness, as well as their resignation to the current life. Those I met and their family were just too poor to afford a wheelchair, though they knew that their life could only better with one. They could have better life however. I'd seen many successful people on the wheelchairs. Therefore, I felt moved to know that they now had the instrument to enhance their life, and I even moved more to know that I could contribute a little effort to the program. It was comprehensible that if you got joy over the thing you had done, you would not regret the amount of time and energy you had spent.
Standing among the hall with so many people on the wheelchairs also helped me know that to be able to walk, to not be restrained on those cold chairs, was a priceless gift. It was unfair that the son above was born healthy just like me, like most of us so lucky people, with all the chances to run, to talk, and to smile. If he had been vaccinated to prevent polio properly like us, he would not have been stolen all those chances. To save equality in this world, I thought it was necessary for a person with better luck, to help others not as lucky as him. It was just a way to express your gratitude to the gift that live had given you, and in turn, received thanks from the people you'd helped. Your day could be brighten up by just one phrase "thank you", one grateful smile, or one compassionate hug. Wasn't it worth your precious time and effort?
Experiencing the voluntary job, as well as observing other fellow volunteers, I learned that beside passion for your work, your knowledge and experience also played an important role. Some of my jobs required the application of my education directly, such as teaching disadvantaged children, or translating documents (for a poverty-alleviation program). How could I be a teacher, if my knowledge was just on the same level with that of my students; how could I translate anything, if my command of language was insufficient. With what I learned at school, I was capable of doing the mental-required job. However, I was taught at school to solve a hundred integral problems, not about solving a single problem of confronting with a child. It was hard to persuade a naughty boy into to study, and it required none of my mathematics knowledge, but an understanding of child behavior as well as social skills. That time, I was sent to a training course hold by the organization that I was working in. They taught me how to play with children, how to respond to their demands, and to put them to study. Though the course was fairly short, I learned to think differently, and therefore, act differently. I didn't perceive that teaching there was granting favors to the children anymore, but rather helping my younger brothers or sisters, so that I wouldn't feel frustrated about their insolence. Only through a sentimental link can we understand each other, and build a sustainable relationship, as a family's members, not as that of students and teacher. The course really helped me continue my job; if I had not been trained, I would have found no way to overcome the obstacle.
I'm now reaching the door to a higher education stage - the university, the opportunity that many young people in Vietnam don't have. Their family cannot afford them the secondary school's cost, and they have to make some money by the age of 15 or 16. Therefore, people who have a better opportunity like me should put the education I get to use. Adding to my current compassion for the less-lucky people, the skills and knowledge I acquired in the university will help me contribute more to the community. Hope that one day, I will not only stop having those scary nightmares, but also help others get out of the nightmares that they're living.
------------------
Do you think I should have a conclusion, and does the part about education seems a little bit drift off from the whole essay?
Thanks in advance :D
Here's the prompt
Please address the following in no more than two to three, single spaced pages (please use 12 point font and 1" margins). The Faculty Selection Committee will evaluate your essay based on clarity of thought and organization of the essay.
DePauw's Ubben Lecture series recently brought Greg Mortenson, author of "Three Cups of Tea: One Man's Mission to Promote Peace ... One School at a Time," to campus. Mortenson has spent much time during the last fifteen years building schools in rural Pakistan and Afghanistan. During his lecture, he stated, "...the real enemy -- whether it's in Africa or Afghanistan or here in the U.S. -- the real enemy is ignorance, and it's ignorance that breeds hatred. And to overcome ignorance, we need to have courage, we need to have compassion, and most of all, I think what's so important is that we need to have education." He went on to say, "What I'm trying to share in [my new book] is that, really, all of us can make a difference, and I also think that it's so important that we exude hope, love and compassion -- all of those things -- it's really what's going to bring about a better world."
To what cause would you commit a substantial amount of time and energy to bring hope to those in need? How would you use your education to support these efforts?
-------------------
I was walking on a boundless prairie. The wind was tickling my ears, whispering something; its tenderness made me feel safe and secure. Suddenly, the sky changed from blue to an ominous red, while the wind stopped caressing and started raging. I could not feel calm any longer, and instinctively, I began to run. The faster I ran, the harsher the wind slapped my face. I knew that this wasn't a fair race, but I kept running ... I ran ... I ran. The wind stopped, I stopped, and I realized that I was standing on the same starting point all along; it was futile escaping such infinite place, I turned my head around, there was only grass, grass, and grass. The sky changed its color again, to a hopeless black. I gave up the idea of escaping this place; it was darkness everywhere ...
Bounced up from my bed, "such a weird dream" I thought. The apprehension of being stuck there still lingered on me; luckily, it was just a nightmare. Ironically, on another bed, another boy was living the same nightmare. His bed was truly a limitless prairie: he could never get out of the bed by himself; he was disabled.
That kind of dream made me recall my trips to Thai Nguyen province to conduct a survey for Humanitarian Services for Children of Vietnam organization. The purpose of the survey was to learn more about the background as well as the daily life of the people who were going to receive free wheelchairs, so we could gauge how much their lives would be improved one year later with those wheelchairs. We volunteers asked the receivers multiple-choice questions, however, they tended to give us more information than to follow the dull letter A,B,C ... in the answer sheets. I had thought of how dreadful it was to be paralyzed before, but through their story, I knew that my imagination was just a proportion of the reality.
I always admired the mother who cared everything for her twenty-seven-year-old son, who suffered from polio since childhood. The son, who would have been the pillar of the family, now sat in the wheelchair in front of me, looked just like a twelve-year-old boy. He couldn't do anything by himself; he even needed help from his mother only to sit still on the chair. The son wasn't conscious about his condition, as his nervous system was also damaged; however, his mother had born with it for 27 years. She kept talking about her son when I asked her survey questions. Of course I dared not interrupt her story for she was sharing with me her pain, and the least I could do was to listen. "I hope so", she responded to the question "Do you think the wheelchair will make his (her son) life better?" I saw that hope was all she could do at that moment, and also the only thing we volunteers could give her. Hope that she could still look after her son for the continuing years; hope that our free wheelchair - such an expensive thing for her family - would help her son move from place to place easier.
I remembered clearly how sorry I felt for her, and how burning I wanted to alleviate her trouble. That was simply sympathy, the sentiment that linked us human together, and also what have driven me to be a volunteer. Calling back the dreams of being stuck in one place, unable to move an inch, to raise even an arm, I could have a little taste of the life of those disadvantaged people. The fear was so much that I started struggling in vain trying to get out, just to notice that I was sleeping on my bed, how fortunately. I have comprehended their hopelessness, as well as their resignation to the current life. Those I met and their family were just too poor to afford a wheelchair, though they knew that their life could only better with one. They could have better life however. I'd seen many successful people on the wheelchairs. Therefore, I felt moved to know that they now had the instrument to enhance their life, and I even moved more to know that I could contribute a little effort to the program. It was comprehensible that if you got joy over the thing you had done, you would not regret the amount of time and energy you had spent.
Standing among the hall with so many people on the wheelchairs also helped me know that to be able to walk, to not be restrained on those cold chairs, was a priceless gift. It was unfair that the son above was born healthy just like me, like most of us so lucky people, with all the chances to run, to talk, and to smile. If he had been vaccinated to prevent polio properly like us, he would not have been stolen all those chances. To save equality in this world, I thought it was necessary for a person with better luck, to help others not as lucky as him. It was just a way to express your gratitude to the gift that live had given you, and in turn, received thanks from the people you'd helped. Your day could be brighten up by just one phrase "thank you", one grateful smile, or one compassionate hug. Wasn't it worth your precious time and effort?
Experiencing the voluntary job, as well as observing other fellow volunteers, I learned that beside passion for your work, your knowledge and experience also played an important role. Some of my jobs required the application of my education directly, such as teaching disadvantaged children, or translating documents (for a poverty-alleviation program). How could I be a teacher, if my knowledge was just on the same level with that of my students; how could I translate anything, if my command of language was insufficient. With what I learned at school, I was capable of doing the mental-required job. However, I was taught at school to solve a hundred integral problems, not about solving a single problem of confronting with a child. It was hard to persuade a naughty boy into to study, and it required none of my mathematics knowledge, but an understanding of child behavior as well as social skills. That time, I was sent to a training course hold by the organization that I was working in. They taught me how to play with children, how to respond to their demands, and to put them to study. Though the course was fairly short, I learned to think differently, and therefore, act differently. I didn't perceive that teaching there was granting favors to the children anymore, but rather helping my younger brothers or sisters, so that I wouldn't feel frustrated about their insolence. Only through a sentimental link can we understand each other, and build a sustainable relationship, as a family's members, not as that of students and teacher. The course really helped me continue my job; if I had not been trained, I would have found no way to overcome the obstacle.
I'm now reaching the door to a higher education stage - the university, the opportunity that many young people in Vietnam don't have. Their family cannot afford them the secondary school's cost, and they have to make some money by the age of 15 or 16. Therefore, people who have a better opportunity like me should put the education I get to use. Adding to my current compassion for the less-lucky people, the skills and knowledge I acquired in the university will help me contribute more to the community. Hope that one day, I will not only stop having those scary nightmares, but also help others get out of the nightmares that they're living.
------------------
Do you think I should have a conclusion, and does the part about education seems a little bit drift off from the whole essay?
Thanks in advance :D
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