"Daniela Garrido, please report to the office," a stern voice echoed through the halls of La Salle. I can only explain so weakly how my freshman heart dropped at the thought of being in trouble. My cold desk suddenly warmed up along with my red face. I was already reciting my apology speech. I relaxed and walked into the crowded office gracefully, I knew this place, in its entirety. It was my safe haven.
First days of school normally consist of soft sobs from kids afraid to leave their parents. For me, that was never it. I found family in my classmates and a home in my school. My parents were hard working immigrants with little time for even myself. We faked our address for the best public education possible. My mom worked long hours. I barely noticed I was always the last person at school.
One simple fourth grade day, my dad went on a "business trip". That morning was the last time I saw him for three years. At the time, my mom found it too hard to say he had been deported.
My middle school overflowed with brand name school supplies and shiny new ballet shoes. To be honest, I never envied the material things themselves, but the abstract unity they brought between the girls. I knew I was only being ungrateful. I dragged myself to dance after a long first day and cried on my ballet barre.
Eventually, I convinced myself to sign up for a ballet class at school my guidance counselor had suggested. That was my passion, my stage and I knew it was time to walk on. Unfortunately, I got nothing but envious stares from the other girls.
All the dancers avoided me the next day, except one, a tall brunette named Ceci. She explained her mom had shared great things about me with her, which I found very uncomfortable considering I had never met her mom. To my surprise, Ceci's mom was the guidance counselor I had spoken to. They unwaveringly welcomed me into their home when I had no where to go. I felt adopted. The homesickness I once had, was gone. Leaving middle school was hard, but by then I was an expert nomad.
Smiles and music floated through my freshman class at the welcome picnic that first day of high school. I spotted a kid being laughed at for his dance moves in the center of the cafeteria that afternoon. I quickly joined in as though I had known him my whole life. His name was Javi.
One day, my mom picked me up at 6pm sharp. I hurried into the car with a bad attitude, as I had made a habit of. She confessed my grandma was not doing well and that she was going to have to remove me from the school in order to pay off debts. My eyes swelled up without a word. I wasn't ready to leave my school-home for my broken one.
The next fews days were difficult. I quietly told Ceci and Javi that I couldn't afford La Salle and I would be leaving the next year.
To this day, I can't sufficiently express the feeling in the crowded office that day. The entire administration stood before me. An envelope was handed to me. In it, a check for $1,500. I was confused as I looked up at their silent emotion. Sister Pat, the principal, explained the money was collected for a year's tuition by Ceci and Javi. She was so touched, she offered me work-study under one condition, "make the best of it."
That day I realized, participation has never been a drag, but rather an honor. I've dedicated countless hours of service to the children of Miami and Nicaragua One Spirit and Service and Leadership for Today and Tomorrow. As school executive vice president, I am a part of every event, making sure La Salle is a home, not only for myself, but for others.
All my life I have grown up around the vibrant cheers at Sun Life Stadium. Since the day I attended my first UM game dressed head to toe in green and orange, I knew I had found my niche. My dream of UM was no where near the reality of being a resident Cane. It might have been in the spirit and family oriented atmosphere that made the experience feel that there's truly no place like home.
Your essay flows really well and I like it. I think one thing you need to improve on is that right now you are talking about too many things in your essay and I confused by the main point you try to show. Also, I think you can spend more space on talking about your high school experience and elaborate on how you've changed during this period. Remember: do not focus too much on who you USED TO BE, but what kind of person you are right now.
I can only explain so weakly how my freshman heart dropped at the thought of being in trouble.
I remember how weakly my freshman heart dropped at the thought of I am in trouble.First days of school normally consist of soft sobs from kids afraid to leave their parents.
First days of school are generally filled with sobs of kids when their parents were leaving them.My parents were hard working immigrants with little time for even myself.
My parents were hard working immigrants with little time for family.Well.... you started the essay with some incident, however I couldn't find any reference to what happened next. :(
