need to cut down. don't know if i like my conclusion. prompt is "community service. how it benefited others and yourself".
I remember. Remember like it was yesterday. Just two months after my immigration to America, I was enrolled in Ms. Renner's 2nd grade class. They were learning cursive while I was learning how to curl my tongue to pronounce "r". "Go to Ms. Renner and say 'fuck you,'" my class mates insisted. I didn't understand. I raised my hand and proudly asked in front of the class what "fuck" means. I remember. I remember being humiliated and not even knowing it.
In 2006, nearly seven years later, I perfected English, curling my tongue for those r's. I desperately wanted to do something to help immigrant students feel welcome when entering this land of the unknown and to do something to stop my history from repeating to others. I found an organization called Atlanta Korean American Youth Center, a nonprofit organization that serves to help Korean students in all aspects of academics, social life, and athletics. I raised awareness in the difficulty of Korean immigrated students and advocated for a student youth committee in which a Korean student from each school would represent as a leader for all Korean students. By the next winter, the committee was established. Named as the student executive committee secretary, I designed seasonal SAT classes taught my Emory and GeorgiaTech students and even planned social dance parties to promote interaction between Korean students through non-alcoholic parties.
For the four years I've worked at the Youth Center, I have personally seen alcoholic students and drug-addict students become revived by the many programs that the youth center offers. But the person whom I saw the greatest change was me. I realized that there's nothing to life but to help others: to be a shoulder for someone fallen, to be a hand for someone reaching out, to be a friend for someone in need.
I remember. Remember like it was yesterday. Just two months after my immigration to America, I was enrolled in Ms. Renner's 2nd grade class. They were learning cursive while I was learning how to curl my tongue to pronounce "r". "Go to Ms. Renner and say 'fuck you,'" my class mates insisted. I didn't understand. I raised my hand and proudly asked in front of the class what "fuck" means. I remember. I remember being humiliated and not even knowing it.
In 2006, nearly seven years later, I perfected English, curling my tongue for those r's. I desperately wanted to do something to help immigrant students feel welcome when entering this land of the unknown and to do something to stop my history from repeating to others. I found an organization called Atlanta Korean American Youth Center, a nonprofit organization that serves to help Korean students in all aspects of academics, social life, and athletics. I raised awareness in the difficulty of Korean immigrated students and advocated for a student youth committee in which a Korean student from each school would represent as a leader for all Korean students. By the next winter, the committee was established. Named as the student executive committee secretary, I designed seasonal SAT classes taught my Emory and GeorgiaTech students and even planned social dance parties to promote interaction between Korean students through non-alcoholic parties.
For the four years I've worked at the Youth Center, I have personally seen alcoholic students and drug-addict students become revived by the many programs that the youth center offers. But the person whom I saw the greatest change was me. I realized that there's nothing to life but to help others: to be a shoulder for someone fallen, to be a hand for someone reaching out, to be a friend for someone in need.
