Imagine monotonous gray buildings lined by an unpaved path, shrouded in a forest of trees. There are no signs of people as the path progressively expands; no cars line the street, kids don't play outside. Occasionally a timid stray dog will scurry across the road and break the silence. This place is not unlike many of the other dreary and dull cities in the former Soviet Union. With a population of a wholesome 500, I once called this place my home and my prison. Not only does Khot'kovo have the cultural consistency of twins, but the nearest university with any real merit is a two and half hour train ride away. I was whisked away to the land of opportunity when I was 10, and age defined by an unquenchable desire for knowledge, as well as an obsession with fitting in. I quickly assimilated and adapted, learning how to behave, believe, and live like a true American. My mother, however, didn't fare as well. I still remember walking through the aisles of grocery stores, translating the labels on packaged foods. Even though we were poor, my mom worked tirelessly ten hours a day to support her only child. She never cracked under the weight of all the responsibilities on her shoulder. At that point in my life, I was lost; it's so easy to lose yourself in the American culture when you don't have a solid resolve. I didn't want to attend college, nothing in school interested me, and my grades were far from average. I looked to my mom, who unlike me, was confident in her calling in life; she had a bachelor's degree in Clinical Psychology, and even though she had no real faith in her ability to communicate in English, decided to apply to an American university in 2008 to further pursue her education in her tirade to conquer all things American. As clichï as it is, she saved me. She was the light in my dark world; she reached out her hand to save me from the indifferent, phlegmatic, and withdrawn shell of myself and pulled me forward to what I refer to as my own personal renaissance. I stayed up nights with my mother, pouring over her essays and her research, aiding her with a different perspective, and helping her articulate her beliefs. This was the spark that relit my burning desire for knowledge. I suddenly found myself not only interested in the courses she was taking, but often reading and doing research on the subjects in the textbooks on my own time. I had never intended to attend college; I didn't see the importance of education. So imagine my shock when I found myself immersed in the works of Freud, Heider, and Jung, reaping intellect from their theories and absorbing every drop of knowledge from their words. After my mom's graduation in 2010, in the summer before my junior year, I vowed to refocus myself and to transform into the student I knew I had the potential to be. I was through being the mediocre, unmotivated child with a big mouth. In the 2011 school year, I accomplished what I had thought was impossible- straight A's in my classes. This summer, I visited my former prison. An escaped convict, I see now that my mom had risked everythingïthe love of her family, financial stability, and the comfort and happiness of her day to day life, to give me and opportunity to put all my dreams into motion, carpe diem, or in my case, СаŃ...ваŃиŃŃ Đ'онŃ. She carved the path for me and demonstrated the rewards of hard work, and with that, she is the sole person that truly influenced me. She carved my aspirations into what they are today. I don't want to waste my life away, but educate myself so that one day, my own child will look up to me and feel this immense amount of pride and gratitude toward their mother the way I do now towards mine. For half my life, I was in the gray, monotonous buildings, locked behind bars. My mother brought me into the sunlight of the outside world, and her endless support and achievements will be the air beneath my wings as I try to fly. (711)
Can you guys help me delete or shorten some sentences? :b
Can you guys help me delete or shorten some sentences? :b
