I am applying to US colleges for the fall 2013.This is my personal essay.I would be grateful if anyone would comment on its language and content.
Around 10 years ago I was stuck at a train station in India. This site was the very definition of chaos - a never ending build of screeches from retarding trains, a rush of sweaty people and an assortment of indiscernible sounds. All these stimuli sort of disappeared into the background as I witnessed something too painful to describe: a child about my age was sorting through a passenger's puke trying to find something to eat in it. I was horrified and agitatedly asked a local vendor, "Why does not anyone feed kids like him?" I expected him to express sympathy, but, to my dismay he gave the most indifferent response: "The best solution is to chase them away." Not knowing what to do, I gave half of my chocolate bar to the kid and went to find my parents...
7 years later, we were learning about French Revolution in 10th Grade history class. My teacher quoted the famous words uttered by Marie Antoinette in response to concerns over her starving peasant population: "Let them eat brioche." Those words and lack of humanity underlying them, instantly reminded me that incident from India. That class got me thinking about what real hunger meant. In my sheltered existence, I had known "hunger" as just an effect of a missed meal now and then, perhaps caused by fasting because of ancestors' spirits or other festivities. These people's hunger was so much more. I never wanted to feel what they must have felt all the time.
Then, 2 years ago in Kathmandu (Nepal), I saw a few street children sniffing some nondescript "drug" from plastic pouches. I struck up a conversation to figure out what they were doing - they said that they were taking the "drug" because it eased their hunger. Their misery moved me to buy them a piece of cucumber each from a nearby mobile vendor. The joy with which they attacked the cucumbers satisfied me. I felt as if I had been released from the piled up guilt that had weighed heavily on me for years. To cling to that feeling, I bought them more cucumber, which they ate greedily.
Those three incidents all belonged to the same reality: all of my experiences were mere discomforts compared to the hungry peasants in Antoinette's France, the kid rummaging through puke to find food, and the "drug" sniffing Nepalese street children.
These and many more accounts remind me every day that everyone is not as fortunate as I am as there are people living in appalling dearth. As I investigated the plight of the hungry over the past few years I realized that global hunger has become more severe each year, and affects billions of people around the world and in my country. It appears highly unfair and sometimes feels like a daunting task for social workers and organizations working to reduce poverty all around the world.
Still, the satisfaction I felt from feeding those street children lingers in my mind and gives me hope - it showed me that I can contribute in some way even though my efforts may sometimes seem like a drop in the ocean. I will keep working for such people because I know such drops will be accumulated to become something worthy in the future.
"...I cannot do everything, but still I can do something; and because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do something that I can do." These words of Helen Keller give me hope that even if I may not be able to bring changes throughout the whole world, I will at least be able to change the world for a significant number of such people.
Around 10 years ago I was stuck at a train station in India. This site was the very definition of chaos - a never ending build of screeches from retarding trains, a rush of sweaty people and an assortment of indiscernible sounds. All these stimuli sort of disappeared into the background as I witnessed something too painful to describe: a child about my age was sorting through a passenger's puke trying to find something to eat in it. I was horrified and agitatedly asked a local vendor, "Why does not anyone feed kids like him?" I expected him to express sympathy, but, to my dismay he gave the most indifferent response: "The best solution is to chase them away." Not knowing what to do, I gave half of my chocolate bar to the kid and went to find my parents...
7 years later, we were learning about French Revolution in 10th Grade history class. My teacher quoted the famous words uttered by Marie Antoinette in response to concerns over her starving peasant population: "Let them eat brioche." Those words and lack of humanity underlying them, instantly reminded me that incident from India. That class got me thinking about what real hunger meant. In my sheltered existence, I had known "hunger" as just an effect of a missed meal now and then, perhaps caused by fasting because of ancestors' spirits or other festivities. These people's hunger was so much more. I never wanted to feel what they must have felt all the time.
Then, 2 years ago in Kathmandu (Nepal), I saw a few street children sniffing some nondescript "drug" from plastic pouches. I struck up a conversation to figure out what they were doing - they said that they were taking the "drug" because it eased their hunger. Their misery moved me to buy them a piece of cucumber each from a nearby mobile vendor. The joy with which they attacked the cucumbers satisfied me. I felt as if I had been released from the piled up guilt that had weighed heavily on me for years. To cling to that feeling, I bought them more cucumber, which they ate greedily.
Those three incidents all belonged to the same reality: all of my experiences were mere discomforts compared to the hungry peasants in Antoinette's France, the kid rummaging through puke to find food, and the "drug" sniffing Nepalese street children.
These and many more accounts remind me every day that everyone is not as fortunate as I am as there are people living in appalling dearth. As I investigated the plight of the hungry over the past few years I realized that global hunger has become more severe each year, and affects billions of people around the world and in my country. It appears highly unfair and sometimes feels like a daunting task for social workers and organizations working to reduce poverty all around the world.
Still, the satisfaction I felt from feeding those street children lingers in my mind and gives me hope - it showed me that I can contribute in some way even though my efforts may sometimes seem like a drop in the ocean. I will keep working for such people because I know such drops will be accumulated to become something worthy in the future.
"...I cannot do everything, but still I can do something; and because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do something that I can do." These words of Helen Keller give me hope that even if I may not be able to bring changes throughout the whole world, I will at least be able to change the world for a significant number of such people.