This is for the "person who influenced you" option on the common app. I feel like i may not have said enough about my influential person & I think the conclusion is pretty weak..
Encased in the thick air and dizzying summer heat of Washington DC, Tricia and I scoured the streets around the Capitol for the Hart building and an Aquafina vendor. Without a doubt, the two of us made an entertaining pair. Dysfunctional shoes had spotted our heels with so badly with blisters that we finally surrendered to the pain and liberated them, walking barefoot down Constitution Avenue in a disoriented search. Unable to decipher our electronic maps and late for our lecture on Islam and Al Qaeda, our youthful invincibility had suddenly been humbled to an overly dramatic quest for air-conditioning.
Not wanting to miss the lecture I had been anticipating since signing up for Georgetown summer school, I dragged an impatient Tricia into several cafes and a souvenir shop in search of directions before she made the suggestion I had been trying to avoid. "Let's sit for a while" she said, and practically collapsed on the nearest bench next to a capitol custodian on his lunch break. Momentarily giving in, I sat down across from them. The custodian, clearly curious, seemed to be assessing the scene before him in between bites of a sandwich. I joked with him; "It's better to get lost when it's cooler out". He nodded, smirking at our foolish story as I explained that we had wasted our free hour on the unofficial two-block tour. "We've missed the lecture by now," I said, noting the bitterness in my own voice. At that, he excitedly leaned forward in his seat and declared in a thick middle-eastern accent "I have read the Koran, the Bible and the Torah".
An immigrant from Oman, the custodian worked during the day and took classes at a local community college in the evening. Having deeply studied three religions on his own, he explained the similarities between Islam and Christianity, contrasting interpretations of the Koran, and Jihad's role in the 9/11 attacks. I began to question, to connect the pieces of history, to finally understand the political missteps, to pursue all that he knew. He was patient and passionate, his gestures grand like a professor in lecture and expressions full of compassion. Through his fascination with the world of ideas, I too became fascinated.
One might assume that to make a true impact on another several elements are required. It takes time to inspire people, one may say, you have to know them well. To inspire someone else, you must have done something extraordinary yourself. Under the shade of an oak tree on a humid summer day, I learned otherwise. Within an hour, I was inspired by an ordinary stranger who I never exchanged names with. He motivated me to search my surroundings for enlightenment in the most unconventional places. I began to speak to strangers on the metro during field trips, to wonder what perspective my taxi driver took on international affairs. More than anything, the custodian taught me that the world is made up of incredible people. Perhaps the most valuable knowledge is hidden in their stories.
Encased in the thick air and dizzying summer heat of Washington DC, Tricia and I scoured the streets around the Capitol for the Hart building and an Aquafina vendor. Without a doubt, the two of us made an entertaining pair. Dysfunctional shoes had spotted our heels with so badly with blisters that we finally surrendered to the pain and liberated them, walking barefoot down Constitution Avenue in a disoriented search. Unable to decipher our electronic maps and late for our lecture on Islam and Al Qaeda, our youthful invincibility had suddenly been humbled to an overly dramatic quest for air-conditioning.
Not wanting to miss the lecture I had been anticipating since signing up for Georgetown summer school, I dragged an impatient Tricia into several cafes and a souvenir shop in search of directions before she made the suggestion I had been trying to avoid. "Let's sit for a while" she said, and practically collapsed on the nearest bench next to a capitol custodian on his lunch break. Momentarily giving in, I sat down across from them. The custodian, clearly curious, seemed to be assessing the scene before him in between bites of a sandwich. I joked with him; "It's better to get lost when it's cooler out". He nodded, smirking at our foolish story as I explained that we had wasted our free hour on the unofficial two-block tour. "We've missed the lecture by now," I said, noting the bitterness in my own voice. At that, he excitedly leaned forward in his seat and declared in a thick middle-eastern accent "I have read the Koran, the Bible and the Torah".
An immigrant from Oman, the custodian worked during the day and took classes at a local community college in the evening. Having deeply studied three religions on his own, he explained the similarities between Islam and Christianity, contrasting interpretations of the Koran, and Jihad's role in the 9/11 attacks. I began to question, to connect the pieces of history, to finally understand the political missteps, to pursue all that he knew. He was patient and passionate, his gestures grand like a professor in lecture and expressions full of compassion. Through his fascination with the world of ideas, I too became fascinated.
One might assume that to make a true impact on another several elements are required. It takes time to inspire people, one may say, you have to know them well. To inspire someone else, you must have done something extraordinary yourself. Under the shade of an oak tree on a humid summer day, I learned otherwise. Within an hour, I was inspired by an ordinary stranger who I never exchanged names with. He motivated me to search my surroundings for enlightenment in the most unconventional places. I began to speak to strangers on the metro during field trips, to wonder what perspective my taxi driver took on international affairs. More than anything, the custodian taught me that the world is made up of incredible people. Perhaps the most valuable knowledge is hidden in their stories.