Before you read this, I must warn you that this essay is very plain. I'm short on time and can't really think of a good topic to write about, so I went with the obvious one. I know that I'm taking a huge risk here talking about a disease (which many many many others have done so as well), but again, as I said, I don't have a lot of time, and this topic is very easy for me to write about.
I really didn't follow the conventional style of writing here (if there is one, that is), where the writer would highlight the specific event of experience. But instead, I just implied in the essay that the "significant experience" spanned a long large time period. Is that ok?
I have thoughts on the essay and those are written in red.
Thank you very very much!!! (btw I'm submitting this in TOMORROW, so yea, thanks)
Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you.
The Lifetime Challenge within Me (Lame title, I know )
I have always loved challenges. When I was little, my friends and I would conjure up bold activities for us to beguile our time. In school, I eagerly competed against my classmates for high grades. I quickly became enamored with these challenges, since I have, for the most part, successfully combated against them. When I was nine, however, I faced a challenge that wasn't particularly endearing to me and one that I may never win, a challenge so palpable that I could feel it in my sinews and bones, yet so unfathomable that if someone had asked me to describe it, I wouldn't be able to do so. I had juvenile rheumatoid arthritis. The ruthless disease attacked my bodily joints and left me bereft of supple movement. For a period of time, I had trouble managing the disease. It was hard not to be frustrated when even simple "tasks" that normal people take for granted such as standing up from a chair or picking up a dropped item entailed an arduous effort.
Pining for complete mobility, I would often find myself gawking at the ease of how others walked, moving so gracefully as if they were glamorous supermodels displaying themselves on the catwalk. Yet one of the most vexing parts of my experience was the inability of others to empathize or even sympathize with me. A young boy's life afflicted with an old man's disease didn't appeal to pity from most. And yet, did I even want their charity? Did I want to be declared second class before I even had any say? As I made way for students to overtake me every morning, some of them haltingly asked the one quizzical question that I had difficulty answering: "Why do you walk like that?"
Perhaps the most perplexing yet exasperating question that I have asked myself over the years is "why me?" One in a thousand - that was the odds of a person getting juvenile rheumatoid arthritis, and that one person just happened to be me. It's like participating in some archaic lottery with a thousand others encircling a spinner. As I the spinner points towards me, I miserably witness the wave of relief on everyone else's faces. And sometimes I pensively dream of the countless possibilities that I would have had if the spinner had not landed on me. A foot to the right or left and maybe I would have the chance to become a professional athlete, or at least have the opportunity to win a physical education award.
But I did win a physical education award. And just how did a boy with arthritis win such an award? Every morning, I woke up early enough to loosen my joints, and every evening, I walked half an hour. After a period of time, I witnessed the rapid transformation of not being able to walk to running with ease. And not long after that, I was rewarded for my efforts.
When I look into the mirror, I don't see brawn. But what I also don't see are the things that lie beneath my skin through years of enduring the disease, the things that are more potent than the efficacy of any medication, more compelling than the words of any skeptic, and more refined than the most polished of diamonds in the world. Those are the things that have gotten me to this point. In a peculiar way, I consider this disease not a bane but a boon for me. It has made me appreciate the value of life, realize that I am still the given the chance to compete against others, and learn that people can be just as successful even when they start from below zero. That's why I set out to do my absolute best.
Too long?
Thanks guys!!!
I really didn't follow the conventional style of writing here (if there is one, that is), where the writer would highlight the specific event of experience. But instead, I just implied in the essay that the "significant experience" spanned a long large time period. Is that ok?
I have thoughts on the essay and those are written in red.
Thank you very very much!!! (btw I'm submitting this in TOMORROW, so yea, thanks)
Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you.
The Lifetime Challenge within Me (Lame title, I know )
I have always loved challenges. When I was little, my friends and I would conjure up bold activities for us to beguile our time. In school, I eagerly competed against my classmates for high grades. I quickly became enamored with these challenges, since I have, for the most part, successfully combated against them. When I was nine, however, I faced a challenge that wasn't particularly endearing to me and one that I may never win, a challenge so palpable that I could feel it in my sinews and bones, yet so unfathomable that if someone had asked me to describe it, I wouldn't be able to do so. I had juvenile rheumatoid arthritis. The ruthless disease attacked my bodily joints and left me bereft of supple movement. For a period of time, I had trouble managing the disease. It was hard not to be frustrated when even simple "tasks" that normal people take for granted such as standing up from a chair or picking up a dropped item entailed an arduous effort.
Pining for complete mobility, I would often find myself gawking at the ease of how others walked, moving so gracefully as if they were glamorous supermodels displaying themselves on the catwalk. Yet one of the most vexing parts of my experience was the inability of others to empathize or even sympathize with me. A young boy's life afflicted with an old man's disease didn't appeal to pity from most. And yet, did I even want their charity? Did I want to be declared second class before I even had any say? As I made way for students to overtake me every morning, some of them haltingly asked the one quizzical question that I had difficulty answering: "Why do you walk like that?"
Perhaps the most perplexing yet exasperating question that I have asked myself over the years is "why me?" One in a thousand - that was the odds of a person getting juvenile rheumatoid arthritis, and that one person just happened to be me. It's like participating in some archaic lottery with a thousand others encircling a spinner. As I the spinner points towards me, I miserably witness the wave of relief on everyone else's faces. And sometimes I pensively dream of the countless possibilities that I would have had if the spinner had not landed on me. A foot to the right or left and maybe I would have the chance to become a professional athlete, or at least have the opportunity to win a physical education award.
But I did win a physical education award. And just how did a boy with arthritis win such an award? Every morning, I woke up early enough to loosen my joints, and every evening, I walked half an hour. After a period of time, I witnessed the rapid transformation of not being able to walk to running with ease. And not long after that, I was rewarded for my efforts.
When I look into the mirror, I don't see brawn. But what I also don't see are the things that lie beneath my skin through years of enduring the disease, the things that are more potent than the efficacy of any medication, more compelling than the words of any skeptic, and more refined than the most polished of diamonds in the world. Those are the things that have gotten me to this point. In a peculiar way, I consider this disease not a bane but a boon for me. It has made me appreciate the value of life, realize that I am still the given the chance to compete against others, and learn that people can be just as successful even when they start from below zero. That's why I set out to do my absolute best.
Too long?
Thanks guys!!!
