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Recount an incident or time when you experienced failure. How did it affect you, and what lessons did you learn?
I am the hot-headed Aries of the group.
Unlike the typical stereotype, I do not act irrationally or impulsively. In fact, I am quite the opposite. In serious class discussions, I seek to provide substantial contributions that will help evolve the conversation. I will admit to having strong opinions and not being afraid to voice them. However, I am capable of expressing my opinions in a calm and composed demeanor. What exactly makes me hot-headed then? I am not fuming in anger, red is not creeping over my body from head to toe, my blood is not boiling, steam is not flowing out of my ears and there is not an explosion or two. Instead, my hot-headed aspect is triggered by my passion for doing what is right. I refuse to sit back and listen to someone being treated unfairly and unjustly; I refuse to remain a mere bystander while someone is neglected of their right to have their voice heard; I refuse to be the voice of popular opinion. This is not a part of my nature or even a part of my character.
I wasn't always this way.
I used to be unwilling to express my thoughts or feelings to anyone because I was uncertain how people would accept me. My frustration was that I was always too quiet. "You're too quiet", friends and family would say. Everyone around me has always had the misconception that I was shy. When in fact, my shyness was not shyness at all. It was my fear of having to defend diversity in our world when everyone seemed to want conformity. In reality, I would refuse to speak up in fear of being an outlier. I wanted to defend individuality, but something held me back. My failure to not speak up for myself and others left me with many memories that are still engraved into my mind, three of which are:
1. My aunt, the beautiful and manipulative one, came over. I listened to her inquiries on how my father was doing with the family business and his good news was always met with negativity. I watched her manipulate my mother to disregard her own best interest. My mother and father were beautiful people with wonderful ideas, but at the time nobody reminded them of that, not even me.
2. My friend, the stoic and tempered one, never understood the concept of emotions. I watched countless times as she would bully someone who was too scared to stand up for themselves. They needed someone to stand up for them, but nobody ever did, not even me.
3. My teacher, the dedicated and intellectual one, spoke of the greatness of America. I would sit in the class, knowing about the history of hate in America, and I knew others knew about this hate as well, but no one spoke up, not even me.
There have often been times when I remember instances when I wasn't able to help someone due to my fear of not getting accepted. Instead of living in the past and letting my regrets consume me, I allow these memories to feed the fire that burns within me.
Today, it is engraved in my mind that I will never again have memories that end with the phrase "not even me".
Accepting failure and learning from it allows me to build a strong psyche by pushing out the negative and bringing in the positive. Failure is such a remarkable concept that some have the misfortune of not embracing. Even now, in this moment, my failure somehow is supposed to help me persuade a stranger to trust in my future. I am confident that my passion of helping other people, giving everyone a voice, and standing up for what I believe is right, is what is needed to make strangers convinced to invest in my future.
Recount an incident or time when you experienced failure. How did it affect you, and what lessons did you learn?
I am the hot-headed Aries of the group.
Unlike the typical stereotype, I do not act irrationally or impulsively. In fact, I am quite the opposite. In serious class discussions, I seek to provide substantial contributions that will help evolve the conversation. I will admit to having strong opinions and not being afraid to voice them. However, I am capable of expressing my opinions in a calm and composed demeanor. What exactly makes me hot-headed then? I am not fuming in anger, red is not creeping over my body from head to toe, my blood is not boiling, steam is not flowing out of my ears and there is not an explosion or two. Instead, my hot-headed aspect is triggered by my passion for doing what is right. I refuse to sit back and listen to someone being treated unfairly and unjustly; I refuse to remain a mere bystander while someone is neglected of their right to have their voice heard; I refuse to be the voice of popular opinion. This is not a part of my nature or even a part of my character.
I wasn't always this way.
I used to be unwilling to express my thoughts or feelings to anyone because I was uncertain how people would accept me. My frustration was that I was always too quiet. "You're too quiet", friends and family would say. Everyone around me has always had the misconception that I was shy. When in fact, my shyness was not shyness at all. It was my fear of having to defend diversity in our world when everyone seemed to want conformity. In reality, I would refuse to speak up in fear of being an outlier. I wanted to defend individuality, but something held me back. My failure to not speak up for myself and others left me with many memories that are still engraved into my mind, three of which are:
1. My aunt, the beautiful and manipulative one, came over. I listened to her inquiries on how my father was doing with the family business and his good news was always met with negativity. I watched her manipulate my mother to disregard her own best interest. My mother and father were beautiful people with wonderful ideas, but at the time nobody reminded them of that, not even me.
2. My friend, the stoic and tempered one, never understood the concept of emotions. I watched countless times as she would bully someone who was too scared to stand up for themselves. They needed someone to stand up for them, but nobody ever did, not even me.
3. My teacher, the dedicated and intellectual one, spoke of the greatness of America. I would sit in the class, knowing about the history of hate in America, and I knew others knew about this hate as well, but no one spoke up, not even me.
There have often been times when I remember instances when I wasn't able to help someone due to my fear of not getting accepted. Instead of living in the past and letting my regrets consume me, I allow these memories to feed the fire that burns within me.
Today, it is engraved in my mind that I will never again have memories that end with the phrase "not even me".
Accepting failure and learning from it allows me to build a strong psyche by pushing out the negative and bringing in the positive. Failure is such a remarkable concept that some have the misfortune of not embracing. Even now, in this moment, my failure somehow is supposed to help me persuade a stranger to trust in my future. I am confident that my passion of helping other people, giving everyone a voice, and standing up for what I believe is right, is what is needed to make strangers convinced to invest in my future.