Please provide a statement (appr. 250-500 words) that addresses your reasons for transferring and the objectives you hope to achieve.
My first semesters of college were satisfactory, amusing, frustrating, and irritating - wonderful and terrible, in other words. Three or four more years of such semesters, I imagine, wouldn't be unpleasant. That being written, I still want to move on and to progress, but the reason can only be found at the start of the beginning.
"What did you do in school today?" my mom had asked her son, who had just arrived from school.
"I had my daydreams again."
Eight years ago, I wasn't challenged by my classes, so my mom made a decision. It changed everything, and it changed who I would become. Back then, I was a young, shy fifth grader who was always praised by his teachers.
"Do you remember what Miss [NAME] said?" Miss [NAME] was my third grade teacher: to be honest, I really didn't know, but I'm sure that even if I had, it wouldn't have stopped my mom from finishing. "'If only I had five students like [myName]...'"
A summer break later, I was no longer a fifth grader. I was a sixth grader. The real difference, however, is that I no longer had teachers - real teachers, at least - but some things stayed the same: I was still shy! My mom decided to start homeschooling me with what I later dubbed as "virtual teachers." It was a curriculum that was pre-structured and pre-made and it was perfect for us, because we were just a family of two.
Three years after that, I successfully enrolled into a high school. I started and suffered through several weeks of it's-six-in-the-morning-I-need-coffee. My mom and I were still a family of two; and her work hours coincided with my school hours. She'd go to work when I came home, and I'd wait up for her until she came home; we were both losing sleep, so I made a decision.
"Let's go back to homeschooling."
It was high school now. I couldn't rely on my "teachers," and I couldn't rely on my mom, so learning was a task that fell to me. I managed, and then I finished, and then I started college. I met people, and I heard of their venerable AP classes (and extra college credits). I certainly never took any - I don't think I even knew what they were.
I felt inferior. I had become accustomed to hearing that I was "bright" and "smart," and I had heard tales of the precocious homeschoolers - so far beyond me - that wrote books and completed college classes. The apparent advancement of my college peers undoubtedly added to that feeling. Behind everyone and everything, I still have one goal, which I've held onto since the very start of my educational career.
To reach the top.
My first semesters of college were satisfactory, amusing, frustrating, and irritating - wonderful and terrible, in other words. Three or four more years of such semesters, I imagine, wouldn't be unpleasant. That being written, I still want to move on and to progress, but the reason can only be found at the start of the beginning.
"What did you do in school today?" my mom had asked her son, who had just arrived from school.
"I had my daydreams again."
Eight years ago, I wasn't challenged by my classes, so my mom made a decision. It changed everything, and it changed who I would become. Back then, I was a young, shy fifth grader who was always praised by his teachers.
"Do you remember what Miss [NAME] said?" Miss [NAME] was my third grade teacher: to be honest, I really didn't know, but I'm sure that even if I had, it wouldn't have stopped my mom from finishing. "'If only I had five students like [myName]...'"
A summer break later, I was no longer a fifth grader. I was a sixth grader. The real difference, however, is that I no longer had teachers - real teachers, at least - but some things stayed the same: I was still shy! My mom decided to start homeschooling me with what I later dubbed as "virtual teachers." It was a curriculum that was pre-structured and pre-made and it was perfect for us, because we were just a family of two.
Three years after that, I successfully enrolled into a high school. I started and suffered through several weeks of it's-six-in-the-morning-I-need-coffee. My mom and I were still a family of two; and her work hours coincided with my school hours. She'd go to work when I came home, and I'd wait up for her until she came home; we were both losing sleep, so I made a decision.
"Let's go back to homeschooling."
It was high school now. I couldn't rely on my "teachers," and I couldn't rely on my mom, so learning was a task that fell to me. I managed, and then I finished, and then I started college. I met people, and I heard of their venerable AP classes (and extra college credits). I certainly never took any - I don't think I even knew what they were.
I felt inferior. I had become accustomed to hearing that I was "bright" and "smart," and I had heard tales of the precocious homeschoolers - so far beyond me - that wrote books and completed college classes. The apparent advancement of my college peers undoubtedly added to that feeling. Behind everyone and everything, I still have one goal, which I've held onto since the very start of my educational career.
To reach the top.
