Hi, this is the freshman applicant prompt for UCs and I was really hoping to get some feedback on it. it's a bit too long (about 100-200 words long) and need help condensing it by getting rid of unnecessary information. Criticisms, comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated! Thank you!
Describe the world you come from - for example, your family, community or school - and tell us how your world has shaped your dreams and aspirations.
"This might be the last time we ever see each other," my frail 82-year-old grandfather said to me as he began to cry. He stopped fanning himself, too preoccupied to care for the heat the Philippine sun brought into his house. He knew his health and eyesight were diminishing and believed we would never reunite again. Tears flowed quietly from my eyes; I wasn't ready to leave him. Looking at him, however, I realized I didn't know what memory of him I could hold onto. Although he was my grandfather, I didn't know about his past, youth, dreams, goals, regrets and life story.
Eight years ago, my mother, sister and I left everything we knew in the Philippines for a better education and more opportunities in America. Since then, I have been disconnected from my extended family except for the two or three visits like this one. It wasn't until my grandfather said those words that I realized that being an ocean away caused me to be unfamiliar with my family. I knew nothing about my ancestors or family members except for the little details shared on Facebook. I didn't grow up on Filipino family values and traditions but instead prized individualism, independence and freedom like many Americans.
To remember him by, I photographed my grandfather sitting in his living room, where he had spent most of his afternoons for the past couple of years, a few days before I left. But with the winter holidays over, I left him and my family once again, to return to life in the US while hoping for another reunion in the near future.
But my next return to the Philippines during summer break was unplanned. In March of 2012, my grandfather was diagnosed with Stage 4 Lung Cancer with only two months to live. He became bedridden in the hospital and unable to speak due to a respirator in his mouth. It took three days for me to muster the courage to say hello without weeping, and a week to tell him I missed him.
As days and weeks passed, I watched by his hospital bed as his health rapidly deteriorated and his limbs become motionless. He gathered his remaining strength to acknowledge me through small nods when I touched his hand or said hello. Although I wanted to hold a conversation with him and ask him about his life, I couldn't. Instead, I told him about the little things in my life to keep him company in his last days. I took time for granted, thinking I had enough but I didn't. With his inevitable death imminent, I reminded him that I loved him. A few days later, he surprisingly raised his hand slowly after I said hello.
"He wants you to hold his hand," the nurse quietly said.
I reached out and lightly squeezed his thin and bony hand. I felt him squeeze back and I couldn't help but cry again as death loomed over us. It was the last sign of movement and life from him. A couple of days later, on June 30, he passed away.
Living in America has given me opportunities to grow as an individual but it took me away from my family, culture and traditions. I spent more time selfishly locked away in my room and ignored family requests for quality time together like many teenagers nowadays. Through my grandfather's death, I reconnected more with my family and culture than ever before. Now, I spend more time making more memories by asking questions and documenting people in their daily lives. Because of my curiosity about my grandfather, past and culture, I want to study Anthropology and Journalism, specifically in Asia, where I can speak with people and gather more knowledge about their histories and family trees. I can share them through stories that will allow grandchildren and great-grandchildren to know more about their ancestors, so people like me will know where they came from.
The word count is 688.
Describe the world you come from - for example, your family, community or school - and tell us how your world has shaped your dreams and aspirations.
"This might be the last time we ever see each other," my frail 82-year-old grandfather said to me as he began to cry. He stopped fanning himself, too preoccupied to care for the heat the Philippine sun brought into his house. He knew his health and eyesight were diminishing and believed we would never reunite again. Tears flowed quietly from my eyes; I wasn't ready to leave him. Looking at him, however, I realized I didn't know what memory of him I could hold onto. Although he was my grandfather, I didn't know about his past, youth, dreams, goals, regrets and life story.
Eight years ago, my mother, sister and I left everything we knew in the Philippines for a better education and more opportunities in America. Since then, I have been disconnected from my extended family except for the two or three visits like this one. It wasn't until my grandfather said those words that I realized that being an ocean away caused me to be unfamiliar with my family. I knew nothing about my ancestors or family members except for the little details shared on Facebook. I didn't grow up on Filipino family values and traditions but instead prized individualism, independence and freedom like many Americans.
To remember him by, I photographed my grandfather sitting in his living room, where he had spent most of his afternoons for the past couple of years, a few days before I left. But with the winter holidays over, I left him and my family once again, to return to life in the US while hoping for another reunion in the near future.
But my next return to the Philippines during summer break was unplanned. In March of 2012, my grandfather was diagnosed with Stage 4 Lung Cancer with only two months to live. He became bedridden in the hospital and unable to speak due to a respirator in his mouth. It took three days for me to muster the courage to say hello without weeping, and a week to tell him I missed him.
As days and weeks passed, I watched by his hospital bed as his health rapidly deteriorated and his limbs become motionless. He gathered his remaining strength to acknowledge me through small nods when I touched his hand or said hello. Although I wanted to hold a conversation with him and ask him about his life, I couldn't. Instead, I told him about the little things in my life to keep him company in his last days. I took time for granted, thinking I had enough but I didn't. With his inevitable death imminent, I reminded him that I loved him. A few days later, he surprisingly raised his hand slowly after I said hello.
"He wants you to hold his hand," the nurse quietly said.
I reached out and lightly squeezed his thin and bony hand. I felt him squeeze back and I couldn't help but cry again as death loomed over us. It was the last sign of movement and life from him. A couple of days later, on June 30, he passed away.
Living in America has given me opportunities to grow as an individual but it took me away from my family, culture and traditions. I spent more time selfishly locked away in my room and ignored family requests for quality time together like many teenagers nowadays. Through my grandfather's death, I reconnected more with my family and culture than ever before. Now, I spend more time making more memories by asking questions and documenting people in their daily lives. Because of my curiosity about my grandfather, past and culture, I want to study Anthropology and Journalism, specifically in Asia, where I can speak with people and gather more knowledge about their histories and family trees. I can share them through stories that will allow grandchildren and great-grandchildren to know more about their ancestors, so people like me will know where they came from.
The word count is 688.
