We are interested in learning more about you and the context in which you have grown up, formed your aspirations and accomplished your academic successes. Please describe the factors and challenges that have most shaped your personal life and aspirations. How have these factors caused you to grow? (800 word limit)
My mother and father lived under a king whose hands were perpetually stained with the blood of his countrymen. They lived through a revolution that was supposed to give them hope, but instead took away their brothers, their books, and their homes. My mother lived under a shroud that she simply could not shake off, because it was the only thing saving her from the stones that would pillage her body. My parents would not let me suffer under the same regime that imprisoned and tortured my uncle for eight years.
I never once heard a fairy tale from my parents, only stories of stark childhoods with momentary lapses of adolescent joy.
I was born in a tumultuous and politically repressive country, but until I was 12, all I knew about it were the vibrant parks with colorful fountains and my grandmother's house that seemed to always be filled with cousins, food, and goodbye parties. I did not understand then why everyone left Iran and no one would come back.
I was not cognizant of the influence living in Iran for the first six years of my life had until I learned that the government of Iran rapes its women, hangs its homosexuals, and indoctrinates its children. I remember seeing my grandmother cover every band of milky, paper-thin skin, but it was not until I was older that I realized she had no choice; that men who lashed at the exposed bodies of innocent poets made that choice for her.
I was torn between hating the Iranian government who pilfers its citizens and loving the land where my family lives. I grew to understand that I could never enjoy the freedom I have here unless I commit myself wholly to eradicating the stain of injustice that has been forced upon Iranians and people of other repressive countries.
My achievements at school and beyond are not solely for the sacrifices my parents have made. Rather, I have learned from their sacrifices. I push to achieve the best because I want to influence the world so that future parents can instill values of hard work in their children without introducing them to struggle and strife.
By moving here, my parents chose freedom of thought in a country flowing with opportunity over financial security in a stifling state, so one day I would understand the value of the former. I grew up with the guilt that my parents left the only place they can ever call home just so I could receive a better education. That guilt vanished when I realized the difference a broadminded education can make in the world. My parents intent was not that I would not chase the American dream, rather, I improve it, expand it, and help make it a reality for others.
More than financial struggle and even my father's critical condition, growing up in Iran, my parents' stories, and my own research have shaped my aspiration to wholly dedicate myself to expanding human rights for women and children.
The collective experience of Iranians and indeed comparable experiences of oppressed people around the world fuels my passion for human rights, but my parents stressed one thing even more: the importance of education before any change is made.
My commitment to helping others so that they do not have to live through what my parents and I have is what fuels my education, what keeps my thirst for knowledge unquenched. I achieve excellence in academics not solely for my love of learning, or my existentialist quest for the truth, but to earn the credibility to have opportunity to change others' lives.
I grew up with the mindset that if I took care of myself, I would be one less worry for my parents. From waking myself up and making breakfast in first grade to taking a job last year to pay for school supplies, I learned to depend only on my own efforts. In sixth grade, when my brother was diagnosed with OCD I could not only take care of myself, now I had to care for my parents as they cared for my brother. This vision of a family united, showed me that when you have the strength to move forward, you have the responsibility to reach back and pull the next person up.
I could tell you that when I moved to Florida, I thought I lived in the best neighborhood, and that my house was the prettiest, until a boy told me I lived in the ghetto and my house was too small. I could tell you I quickly made many friends in kindergarten, but after September 11, 2001, it was not so easy. I could tell you I was grateful and happy with everything my parents provided, but someone would always point out it was not enough. Then I grew up and realized there is not much a person needs to be happy, save for their freedom and understanding of that freedom.
My mother and father lived under a king whose hands were perpetually stained with the blood of his countrymen. They lived through a revolution that was supposed to give them hope, but instead took away their brothers, their books, and their homes. My mother lived under a shroud that she simply could not shake off, because it was the only thing saving her from the stones that would pillage her body. My parents would not let me suffer under the same regime that imprisoned and tortured my uncle for eight years.
I never once heard a fairy tale from my parents, only stories of stark childhoods with momentary lapses of adolescent joy.
I was born in a tumultuous and politically repressive country, but until I was 12, all I knew about it were the vibrant parks with colorful fountains and my grandmother's house that seemed to always be filled with cousins, food, and goodbye parties. I did not understand then why everyone left Iran and no one would come back.
I was not cognizant of the influence living in Iran for the first six years of my life had until I learned that the government of Iran rapes its women, hangs its homosexuals, and indoctrinates its children. I remember seeing my grandmother cover every band of milky, paper-thin skin, but it was not until I was older that I realized she had no choice; that men who lashed at the exposed bodies of innocent poets made that choice for her.
I was torn between hating the Iranian government who pilfers its citizens and loving the land where my family lives. I grew to understand that I could never enjoy the freedom I have here unless I commit myself wholly to eradicating the stain of injustice that has been forced upon Iranians and people of other repressive countries.
My achievements at school and beyond are not solely for the sacrifices my parents have made. Rather, I have learned from their sacrifices. I push to achieve the best because I want to influence the world so that future parents can instill values of hard work in their children without introducing them to struggle and strife.
By moving here, my parents chose freedom of thought in a country flowing with opportunity over financial security in a stifling state, so one day I would understand the value of the former. I grew up with the guilt that my parents left the only place they can ever call home just so I could receive a better education. That guilt vanished when I realized the difference a broadminded education can make in the world. My parents intent was not that I would not chase the American dream, rather, I improve it, expand it, and help make it a reality for others.
More than financial struggle and even my father's critical condition, growing up in Iran, my parents' stories, and my own research have shaped my aspiration to wholly dedicate myself to expanding human rights for women and children.
The collective experience of Iranians and indeed comparable experiences of oppressed people around the world fuels my passion for human rights, but my parents stressed one thing even more: the importance of education before any change is made.
My commitment to helping others so that they do not have to live through what my parents and I have is what fuels my education, what keeps my thirst for knowledge unquenched. I achieve excellence in academics not solely for my love of learning, or my existentialist quest for the truth, but to earn the credibility to have opportunity to change others' lives.
I grew up with the mindset that if I took care of myself, I would be one less worry for my parents. From waking myself up and making breakfast in first grade to taking a job last year to pay for school supplies, I learned to depend only on my own efforts. In sixth grade, when my brother was diagnosed with OCD I could not only take care of myself, now I had to care for my parents as they cared for my brother. This vision of a family united, showed me that when you have the strength to move forward, you have the responsibility to reach back and pull the next person up.
I could tell you that when I moved to Florida, I thought I lived in the best neighborhood, and that my house was the prettiest, until a boy told me I lived in the ghetto and my house was too small. I could tell you I quickly made many friends in kindergarten, but after September 11, 2001, it was not so easy. I could tell you I was grateful and happy with everything my parents provided, but someone would always point out it was not enough. Then I grew up and realized there is not much a person needs to be happy, save for their freedom and understanding of that freedom.