The prompt was basically just "tell us more about yourself."
I need to cut off 11 words to fit in in the word limit.
Any comments would be appreciated!
Also, I wonder if it is too "woe is me"?
Thank you.
I love to read.
I will be the first to admit that this seems rather mundane, especially when compared with such adventurous hobbies such as rock climbing and sky diving. But ever since I picked up The Cat in the Hat, I have been hooked. Just as I'm sure a music lover's heart keeps time like a metronome, mine beats to the turning of pages. If you cut me, I would bleed ink. It is not entirely a genetically inherited trait, but grew from the twisted roots of my childhood. My parents went through what is commonly referred to as a "messy" divorce around the time that I was learning to read. I remember staying up late at night deciphering the mysterious symbols in my numerous Dr. Seuss books, huddled under the covers with a flashlight, while the enraged voices of my parents fighting resonated in the next room.
In an effort to escape the war, I turned to books. Once they were separated and later divorced, I escaped into books from my mother's alcoholism. It was only years later, when I entered middle school, that I realized the joy of writing for myself. One afternoon, my mother was late picking me up, and I had already finished the book in my backpack. I took out my notebook in a fit of anger at myself and at my mother. I can't even remember what I wrote, but I do remember the feeling of absolute freedom. Ever since, I keep a pen and paper nearby for when the need to write overcomes me, which is often, but I have since loved to write for more than therapeutic purposes.
The instant Ms. Vernon, my IB English teacher, entered the classroom with her precariously balanced square glasses and her all-black ensemble, we all could clearly see that she was a force to be reckoned with. Our first novel to study was The Stories of Eva Luna by Isabel Allende, which eloquently depicts the double-standards between men and women in the Latino culture. When I did further research, I saw that Allende works to educate women in Latin America and Africa through charitable organizations and to raise awareness for injustice through her writing. I was so provoked by her powerful writing that I read all of her works, beginning with La casa de los espíritus. It was this piece that showed me that literature is more than just escapism, but can act as a vehicle to incite change in the real world. I began to write more and share with others, even about my childhood. I confessed to my friend, Tiana, about my long buried past after she read a paper that I had written for Psychology class about the effects of addiction. She effusively repeated how sorry she was. But, at the risk of penning a cliché, something Ms. Vernon never tolerated, I feel grateful for all my experiences as they have helped to shape who I am today.
As I learned from my first love, William Shakespeare, "Sweet are the uses of adversity."
I need to cut off 11 words to fit in in the word limit.
Any comments would be appreciated!
Also, I wonder if it is too "woe is me"?
Thank you.
I love to read.
I will be the first to admit that this seems rather mundane, especially when compared with such adventurous hobbies such as rock climbing and sky diving. But ever since I picked up The Cat in the Hat, I have been hooked. Just as I'm sure a music lover's heart keeps time like a metronome, mine beats to the turning of pages. If you cut me, I would bleed ink. It is not entirely a genetically inherited trait, but grew from the twisted roots of my childhood. My parents went through what is commonly referred to as a "messy" divorce around the time that I was learning to read. I remember staying up late at night deciphering the mysterious symbols in my numerous Dr. Seuss books, huddled under the covers with a flashlight, while the enraged voices of my parents fighting resonated in the next room.
In an effort to escape the war, I turned to books. Once they were separated and later divorced, I escaped into books from my mother's alcoholism. It was only years later, when I entered middle school, that I realized the joy of writing for myself. One afternoon, my mother was late picking me up, and I had already finished the book in my backpack. I took out my notebook in a fit of anger at myself and at my mother. I can't even remember what I wrote, but I do remember the feeling of absolute freedom. Ever since, I keep a pen and paper nearby for when the need to write overcomes me, which is often, but I have since loved to write for more than therapeutic purposes.
The instant Ms. Vernon, my IB English teacher, entered the classroom with her precariously balanced square glasses and her all-black ensemble, we all could clearly see that she was a force to be reckoned with. Our first novel to study was The Stories of Eva Luna by Isabel Allende, which eloquently depicts the double-standards between men and women in the Latino culture. When I did further research, I saw that Allende works to educate women in Latin America and Africa through charitable organizations and to raise awareness for injustice through her writing. I was so provoked by her powerful writing that I read all of her works, beginning with La casa de los espíritus. It was this piece that showed me that literature is more than just escapism, but can act as a vehicle to incite change in the real world. I began to write more and share with others, even about my childhood. I confessed to my friend, Tiana, about my long buried past after she read a paper that I had written for Psychology class about the effects of addiction. She effusively repeated how sorry she was. But, at the risk of penning a cliché, something Ms. Vernon never tolerated, I feel grateful for all my experiences as they have helped to shape who I am today.
As I learned from my first love, William Shakespeare, "Sweet are the uses of adversity."
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