With the stubbornness of a cow and the excitement of a puppy my father exclaimed, " We're going to downtown San Diego!", as he untied the ropes that kept his sailboat docked. I couldn't help but give into his excited feelings and soon found myself leaving the marina he lived in and entering the bay. "Take that rope and tighten it! Now take this rope and keep your grip of it.". I listened and followed his orders without hesitation, simultaneously translating my father's rigid Spanish accent. Taming the sailboat proved no easy task as the waters and winds fought back, but that made it all the more attractive of a challenge. Looking to my father I could see in his eyes he thought the same as I.
My father acted on whim seeing as the wind was not in our favor. Pushing hard and against us the wind kept taunting us like an invisible wall. We again looked at each,this time our puzzled faces instead reading "What do I do!". Now, as a senior in high-school with my entire future ahead of me and everything to lose, I'm asking myself that same question "what do I do?".
"I just don't understand why the water bill is $240!" . "Mom, It's more than just a bill, it's a testimony to your lack of dedication to us and yourself". For me to see that bill was to see my mother failing us. Frustrated, angry, in disbelief my hands trembling, my mind racing, my face building with rage "Why can you not put in the work for this family, do you care about us? Do you love us? Because if you did you would show us." She shoots back "I'm a single mother, I'm 50 years old, I'm not perfect, you don't appreciate me, John!". Her eyes like a tiger with an injury, cornered and afraid - to help her was to get bit; but when I looked to her I saw myself.
I was attacking her because I was afraid, because life was fighting back against me. The world, life, all of it owe me nothing - I was put on this Earth to fight for myself. My dreams, my future , and my success are not anyone's but mine. Life doesn't care if I want to be an engineer or if I want to go to college. Life gives me and every other person on this Earth 24 hours a day and it's up to me to use them. To me there is always the intensity of my own ability, my own worth, my own hard work. I'm obsessed with my success and just because life has shoved me into near despair, just because life has complicated my path to success, just because I struggle, I will not give up. My success will never fall on my family, it is my own responsibility and no matter how bad my life gets, I will never let it be my excuse - no matter how bad it is, I am going to make it. No matter how badly it hurts, I'm going to look past my pride to help my mother and keep myself pushing forward despite these forces against me.
Just like when I looked at my father that during that windy day on the rocky water of the Bay. Just like then when he told me we we're going to see the bridge and sail downtown no matter the wind. He didn't just give up, he challenged himself, his inner sailor to overcome the wind. Because in his mind he had a goal and he wasn't gonna let the wind or any situation just change that. Downtown San Diego had never felt more beautiful than it did sitting with my father.
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Looking to revise this, not sure how to approach it. I am open to any advice. About me, I am very driven . I am a Native American/Spanish boy who lives with his single mom and three brothers in a one bedroom home. Life is tough, but I am tougher are my thoughts. Thank you.
Hi, I liked your sailing story, but it seems like you could have done a better job of integrating it into your essay by extending the analogy. I know to sail into the wind you have to tack back and forth instead of trying to go directly into the wind - you know you made the wrong turn when your sail goes slack and just starts flapping uselessly. It seems like maybe you could tie some of these ideas to your own experiences? And how did the story end? Did you and your dad make it downtown, or did you end up having to change your destination? I think there could be lessons drawn from either ending. But I didn't really like the story about the water bill as much. It was unclear exactly why this made you so mad. Did your mom leave the faucet running all day or something? In any case, it sounds like you are being very hard on your mom, because you don't explain the reasons completely enough. And it is unclear what lesson you learned from this experience, or how it reflects your personality, except maybe being a disrespectful son. (I realize you are not, that is just the impression your writing gives to me). Also, it would be nicer to follow more closely the advice "show, don't tell". Much of the personal part of your essay is just you stating what you believe. It would be better to show how your background and experiences have influenced your beliefs.
As he excitedly untied the ropes that kept his sailboat docked, my father exclaimed "We're going to downtown San Diego!". There was no use debating him, for he loved to sail and he was determined to show off his inner sailor. I give into his excitement and soon found myself leaving the marina he lived in and entering the bay. "Take that rope and tighten it! Now take this rope and keep your grip of it." I listened and followed his orders without hesitation, simultaneously translating my father's rigid Spanish accent. Taming the sailboat proved no easy task as the waters and winds fought back, but that made the challenge all the more attractive. Looking to my father, I could see in his eyes he thought the same as I.
Moments later I could see him biting his lower lip and straining his eyes while looking into the distance; he is thinking. "Wonder what has him beat?", I think only to see our sail flapping helplessly as we slow to a halt. "Oh, it's the wind", I realize. "Tick, tack" the water lightly splashes against the boat as I can't help but feel confused and ready to just go back home. Breaking away from my thoughts I see my father leaning his head in at me, one eyebrow cocked clearly looking just as confused. His eyebrows would raise with a smile and he'd open his mouth only to suddenly look away and return to his confused look. I look away and back again realizing he's thinking the same thing I am, "What do I do?". I haven't been on a boat in months. Yet, the wind keeps pushing and blowing my life to a halt, and I still find myself asking "What am I to do?"
Walking into my one bedroom home I'm greeted with the usual by my brothers, a simple acknowledgement of my presence and back to their games. I move towards the room dying to kick off my shoes and take off my ten ton backpack. Awaiting me is my mother, biting down on her nails somberly looking at a stack of papers with big red numbers on them. "OH? Honey it's you. Sit down, John. Mommy has something to tell you". She gestures me to sit on my bed as she props up her back looking lost all the while. "The situation has become much, much worse John . I don't know what to do, we owe so much money we don't have. What do we do honey?" I'm struck and afraid, "I'm sure it's not that bad mom... Right?"
"I don't know how it got so bad." she insists. My stomach churned with anger and despair. "Are we going to be homeless? Am I going to lose my future to poverty?" Questions pelted my mind. My eyes lost focus, my mom's voice dulled in the background, my thoughts screaming over her. Behind a door in my mind lies a million thoughts of failure, a dark place with ever reaching depth. Just now I could feel the door pulling me in, calling me to it. Reaching it I could see it was black, with deep square grooves in a 2x3 pattern. As I reach for the door, my hand pulling it's large metal handle, I'm embraced by my crying mother. "John. Baby. You're a good son." she cries. I look into her eyes and see she's just as afraid as me wanting to lean on me for support. I could not let her or myself down, I will put my faith in myself to succeed for the better of all of us. Hugging her I remind her "You're a wonderful mother".
Sitting next to my father he tells me "Son, the wind's slowing us down, but it's okay, we'll make it." He then takes the sailboat and turns the boat to a 45 degree angle to the wind. We pick up a slow speed moving toward our destination. "Dad won't this take a lot longer though? At this angle we're not going straight there." He gives me a warm smile, "Yes, that is true, but I told you we're going downtown and that's exactly what we're doing."
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Thank you for your advice. I want to use my story with my mom to show the idea that my home life, the life I was born into rather pushes against me and my success. However, like the wind pushing against me and my father, I want to show it that it does not change my destination in life.
This is revised without the angry notions, I admit that was rather rude of me. Please feel free to comment on this as well it's 50 words too long :( . Again thank you!
