Wake up to the sound of a smartphone alarm; shower in a soothing stream of steamy hot water; get dressed and greet some delicious breakfast downstairs. What a wonderful morning routine! However, my life wasn't always this way. The world I come from, the world of MaoTai road, marks my identity.
When I was in elementary school, my family lived in a broken down apartment on MaoTai road, the old and shabby part of Shanghai. It featured unpainted walls and naked electrical wires of red, white and yellow running wild on all sides. Electricity and heat were so regularly down that I'd known them as luxuries until the midst of middle school. In the mornings, my brother and I washed up in a lightless bathroom no bigger than 2 square meters; shampoo three times a week, that was all. In the evenings, whenever the electricity goes down, the place became pitch black since moon light wasn't welcomed by those filthy, tiny windows. Just before I would start tearing to the darkness, my brother always shouted "Zhuo Mi Cang!", tricking me to believe that the lights were only off to play hide and seek; this had always kept me quiet.
The MaoTai Road world permitted no childish complaints or defiance; my brother and I often had to step away from the kids' world to manage our entire apartment, fix dinners, or take on other types of grownup responsibilities because my parents were too busy trying to get us out of that life. One night in August, 2005, a typhoon blew out our living room windows, and it rained so heavily the drain pipes leaked into our apartment. As two clueless nine-year olds left to deal with this situation, my brother and I stayed up for 27 hours, taking turns emptying buckets of water as they were quickly filled up by the pouring rain. With experiences as such, I am molded to appreciate any and all improvements in life and grasp any opportunity that nears my sight.
As years passed, life improved drastically for my family, eventually evolving into today's comfortable life that my parents provide for me. Still, when I see people living in shacks lit by a dim lightbulb, memories of MaoTai road swarm into my mind, and this thought occurs to me: surely my parents and I were not the only ones who lived in a place like MaoTai road, and certainly there are others who endure much harsher livings. Presented with invaluable opportunities like university, I am obligated to help people, to benefit society. Currently I envision computer science as my major because I enjoy it wholeheartedly and it has the potential to greatly ease the lives of other people. But who knows? I say it is too early to pin down on a single pursuit. What I do know is that I want to be a useful individual; I plan on contributing to society and know that wherever life brings me, I will always be that MaoTai road youth.
When I was in elementary school, my family lived in a broken down apartment on MaoTai road, the old and shabby part of Shanghai. It featured unpainted walls and naked electrical wires of red, white and yellow running wild on all sides. Electricity and heat were so regularly down that I'd known them as luxuries until the midst of middle school. In the mornings, my brother and I washed up in a lightless bathroom no bigger than 2 square meters; shampoo three times a week, that was all. In the evenings, whenever the electricity goes down, the place became pitch black since moon light wasn't welcomed by those filthy, tiny windows. Just before I would start tearing to the darkness, my brother always shouted "Zhuo Mi Cang!", tricking me to believe that the lights were only off to play hide and seek; this had always kept me quiet.
The MaoTai Road world permitted no childish complaints or defiance; my brother and I often had to step away from the kids' world to manage our entire apartment, fix dinners, or take on other types of grownup responsibilities because my parents were too busy trying to get us out of that life. One night in August, 2005, a typhoon blew out our living room windows, and it rained so heavily the drain pipes leaked into our apartment. As two clueless nine-year olds left to deal with this situation, my brother and I stayed up for 27 hours, taking turns emptying buckets of water as they were quickly filled up by the pouring rain. With experiences as such, I am molded to appreciate any and all improvements in life and grasp any opportunity that nears my sight.
As years passed, life improved drastically for my family, eventually evolving into today's comfortable life that my parents provide for me. Still, when I see people living in shacks lit by a dim lightbulb, memories of MaoTai road swarm into my mind, and this thought occurs to me: surely my parents and I were not the only ones who lived in a place like MaoTai road, and certainly there are others who endure much harsher livings. Presented with invaluable opportunities like university, I am obligated to help people, to benefit society. Currently I envision computer science as my major because I enjoy it wholeheartedly and it has the potential to greatly ease the lives of other people. But who knows? I say it is too early to pin down on a single pursuit. What I do know is that I want to be a useful individual; I plan on contributing to society and know that wherever life brings me, I will always be that MaoTai road youth.
