Choose an issue of importance to you-the issue could be personal, school related, local, political, or international in scope-and write an essay in which you explain the significance of that issue to yourself, your family, your community, or your generation.
I have a confession: I watch far too much Animal Planet...and Dance Moms, and sometimes Cake Boss, but my guilty pleasures are beside the point. I watch copious amounts of Animal Planet and, at times, I imagine my life is narrated by an Australian man.
My freshman year, I was an antelope. My eyebrows needed to be waxed, I had food in my braces more than I didn't, and my choices in attire were questionable, but I was reasonably normal, if a little quirky. I had friends, I was on the junior varsity volleyball team as a freshman (a noticeable accomplishment at ***** High), and I was involved in several organizations. Though I tried to hide it, I was quiet and a little insecure. I kept under the radar when it came to "mall-crawls" and movie nights; I usually sat silently and observed my friends dance around me, giggling about secret Myspace pages and Razr cell phones.
Unfortunately, my silence did not go long overlooked. Antelope rarely go their entire life without encountering a lion, and mine came in the form of a short, scrawny, baseball-playing blonde riding the afternoon bus.
At a mere five-foot-three, the predator spots his prey from across the premises. He calls out to the tall creature - beacons, if you will - in order to reel her in for an after-school snack.
"Oh, hey Allison."
Once eye contact is made and the prey remains unresponsive, the predator whisks into the seat next to her. He quickly checks his surroundings, insuring that the other members of his pack can watch him triumphantly strangle the feeble animal. He then bares his teeth, showing off his metal-covered smile.
"God, has anyone ever told you how unlawfully hideous you are?"
The five-foot-three warrior's pack cries out in joy, for their leader has quickly and successfully disheartened his prey. His swagger shows as he marches back to his homeland, but he can't help but turn around and sink his teeth in for one last juicy bite.
"Honestly, no one would care if you were dead."
The routine would repeat time and time again. I always sat patiently and sometimes even giggled out of the sheer humiliation of the situation. There was really no glory moment for the hideous girl on the back of bus 32. Though I wish I had said something clever and put him in his place, the situation has brought me ideas and inspiration.
I once read somewhere that 2.7 million children are bullied each year. 2.7 million is more than you can win on Deal or No Deal; 2.7 million is nearly eleven percent of the population of Texas. That means there are 2.7 million other little antelope like me having insecurities drilled into their brain for them; being told they are not and never will be good enough. There are so many organizations reaching out to the teenage predator - commercials on television encouraging kind behavior and fair treatment, adults teaching what is "wrong". What about the victims of these hate crimes, the 2.7 million children that are beginning to believe that no one would care if they died?
As a freshman, I was an antelope; I was the prey. Dealing with harsh words and humiliation has brought insecurity, but I honestly believe I am a stronger person because of it. I am now passionate about bullying and would love to work for a non-profit organization that focuses on assisting children who are pushed to a breaking point; children that are overlooked on their own bus rides home. I want to help the antelope overcome their lions, because everyone deserves their own triumphant glory moment.
bump!
I spend copious amounts of hours watching Animal Planet and, at times, I imagine my life is narrated by an Australian man.---Ha ha!!
Antelope rarely go their entire lives without encountering a lion, and mine came in the form of a short, scrawny, baseball-playing blonde riding the afternoon bus.---You're an excellent writer!!
The routine would be repeated time and time again.
There was really no glory moment for the hideous girl in the back of bus 32.
I am now passionate about bullying, and would love to work for a non-profit organization that focuses on assisting children who are pushed to a breaking point; children who are overlooked on their own bus rides home.
This is so great! (I spent years as an antelope in a Catholic school in the 60's...the nuns were the biggest bullies!!
Good luck with school and have fun!
:)
Thanks so much! Here's an edited version:
I have a confession: I watch far too much Animal Planet...and Dance Moms, and
sometimes Cake Boss, but my guilty pleasures are beside the point. I spend
copious amounts of hours watching Animal Planet and, at times, I imagine my
life is narrated by an Australian man.
My freshman year, I was an antelope. My eyebrows needed to be waxed, I had food
in my braces more than I didn't, and my choices in attire were questionable,
but I was reasonably normal, albeit a little quirky. I had friends, I was on
the junior varsity volleyball team as a freshman (a noticeable accomplishment
at Frisco High), and I was involved in several organizations. Though I tried to
hide it, I was quiet and a little insecure. I kept under the radar when it came
to "mall-crawls" and movie nights; I usually sat silently and observed my
friends dance around me with their secret Myspace accounts and Razr cell
phones.
Unfortunately, my silence did not go long overlooked. Antelope rarely go their
entire lives without encountering a lion, and mine came in the form of a short,
scrawny, baseball-playing blonde riding the afternoon bus.
At a mere five-foot-three, the predator spots his prey from across the
premises. He calls out to the tall creature - beacons, if you will - in order
to reel her in for an after-school snack. Once eye contact is made and the prey
remains unresponsive, the predator whisks into the seat next to her. He quickly
checks his surroundings, insuring that the other members of his pack can watch
him triumphantly strangle the feeble animal.
"You know, I didn't realize someone could resemble a horse so much. You are
honestly the ugliest person I've ever seen. I'm just saying what everyone
thinks."
The small warrior's pack cries out in joy, for their leader has quickly and
successfully belittled his prey. His swagger shows as he marches back to his
homeland, but he can't help but turn around and sink his teeth in for one last
juicy bite.
"Honestly, no one would care if you were dead. You should have killed yourself,
like, yesterday."
The routine would be repeated time and time again. I always sat quietly and let
the harsh words reign over me. I never triumphantly fought back; there was
really no glory moment for the "hideous" girl on the back of bus 32. Though I
wish I had said something clever and put him in his place, the situation has
brought me ideas and inspiration.
I once read that 2.7 million children are bullied each year. That means there
are 2.7 million other little antelope like me having insecurities drilled into
their brain for them; being told they are not and never will be good enough.
Having experienced the inner turmoil that comes along with harassment, I see
where the jumble of insecurities and tear-stained pillows come from. I am now
passionate about bullying, and would love to work for a non-profit organization
that focuses on assisting children who are pushed to a breaking point; children
who are overlooked on their own bus rides home. Every traumatic situation is
made better when surrounded by others, and if those bullied have a safe haven
to completely open up to - whether it be a website, or a television program,
or a phone number - they could realize that the harsh words don't last forever.
There are people who care about the antelope who watches a questionable amount
of Animal Planet. There are people who find her beautiful. There is a reason to
go on.
