Describe the world you come from - for example, your family, community or school - and tell us how your world has shaped your dreams and aspirations
My favorite cartoon is about a silly little boy surrounded by the night. He shouts "I'm significant!" at the stars, but only the silence of the darkness replies back to him, as the echo of the words are vanished along with his smug grin. This comical scene portrayed exactly who I was, a mere dust speck deluded with the idea of self-importance. I spent my childhood disillusioned in a local city of South Korea. My aged relatives popularized me, who would gather from mysterious places to see me, the first child of the new family generation. As I was the youngest member of my mother's side of the family, they saw in me the blossoming hope of a new era. They showered me with gifts of love and fame, and I considered myself to be a one serious deal.
My sense of importance clouded once I immigrated to this western country. As I stepped in an unknown territory, my self worth was meaningless and forgotten. I was an insignificant foreigner without a reputation to uphold. I felt distant and reclusive, yet the community promised me a chance to revive that dignity -not the undeserving fame I received from my relatives, but rather an opportunity to create my own reputation in the society.
I joined an annual piano recital that took place in my new neighborhood. It was a small communal event for young pianists like me to feel special for a short period of time. In one year, after the concert was ended, I was confronted by a lady with her young daughter. She remarked my mother how talented I was, and then faced me closer to pat me on the head. "Thank you," she said to me with a pause, "for the inspiration" and turned to show me her daughter. That same girl accompanied me in the following years of the recitals. She had just learned how to play, but was maturing greatly every year. Once in a while my mom mentions her. "Remember that girl?" she says, "You gave her the hope of becoming a fine pianist".
The symbol of hope does not always come with a man in a red cape -it may come from regular enthusiastic folks like me. I have always tried to introduce courage and confidence to those in need. I trained my friends how to swim, how to face the phobia of open water. I was an instructor in my local martial arts center, illustrating self-defense to children and teenagers. Igniting hope and motivation is the way I seize my opportunity to be in the part of this society, and as I plant more inspiration to people around me, my significance and my meaning in this nation grows.
My favorite cartoon is about a silly little boy surrounded by the night. He shouts "I'm significant!" at the stars, but only the silence of the darkness replies back to him, as the echo of the words are vanished along with his smug grin. This comical scene portrayed exactly who I was, a mere dust speck deluded with the idea of self-importance. I spent my childhood disillusioned in a local city of South Korea. My aged relatives popularized me, who would gather from mysterious places to see me, the first child of the new family generation. As I was the youngest member of my mother's side of the family, they saw in me the blossoming hope of a new era. They showered me with gifts of love and fame, and I considered myself to be a one serious deal.
My sense of importance clouded once I immigrated to this western country. As I stepped in an unknown territory, my self worth was meaningless and forgotten. I was an insignificant foreigner without a reputation to uphold. I felt distant and reclusive, yet the community promised me a chance to revive that dignity -not the undeserving fame I received from my relatives, but rather an opportunity to create my own reputation in the society.
I joined an annual piano recital that took place in my new neighborhood. It was a small communal event for young pianists like me to feel special for a short period of time. In one year, after the concert was ended, I was confronted by a lady with her young daughter. She remarked my mother how talented I was, and then faced me closer to pat me on the head. "Thank you," she said to me with a pause, "for the inspiration" and turned to show me her daughter. That same girl accompanied me in the following years of the recitals. She had just learned how to play, but was maturing greatly every year. Once in a while my mom mentions her. "Remember that girl?" she says, "You gave her the hope of becoming a fine pianist".
The symbol of hope does not always come with a man in a red cape -it may come from regular enthusiastic folks like me. I have always tried to introduce courage and confidence to those in need. I trained my friends how to swim, how to face the phobia of open water. I was an instructor in my local martial arts center, illustrating self-defense to children and teenagers. Igniting hope and motivation is the way I seize my opportunity to be in the part of this society, and as I plant more inspiration to people around me, my significance and my meaning in this nation grows.
