Please, I need some feedback on my essay. My parents don't like it. But i really do, I know it needs to be polished up, so any advice?
-[b]Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you.
Poverty. The state of one who lacks a usual or socially acceptable amount of money or material possessions. According to the World Bank, about 22% of the world's population fits that definition with a $1.25 income or lower per day. Being a first generation Indian American, I have frequently visited India. However, it isn't as flashy and vivacious as they portray in Bollywood. It can be a place of desolate hopelessness and misery if one just looks at the pile of bones, skin, and faded rags that lay on the sides of streets. The sight of homeless and impoverished children and elders can strike empathy in even the most callous of hearts. These visits to India have helped to shape some of my future dreams to help the needy and also the steps I have taken in my high school years
One vivid encounter that helped to shape my ideas was the first time I ever came face to face with a beggar at the age of eight. My family and I were driving in a car to a popular Indian cinema. As we stopped at a light, there was a tapping on my window and I looked to my right directly into the sunken eyes of a poor old man. Only, one of his eyes seemed to have been burnt, perhaps by a cigarette near the pupil. His skinny limbs and his amputated arm were a grim reminder of the hardships that he had endured. His white-bearded dark face spoke volumes about his experiences and endless days in the sun while his ragged gray shirt and faded blue-checkered cloth wrapped around his lower body showed his impoverished state. His silver tin pan glinted in the sunlight as he desperately asked for a few coins. I wanted to help the man by giving him a few rupees, but my parents said not to roll down the window and to stay put. The light turned green and I watched the poor old man hobble back over to his corner in the street waiting for the next round of people to stop at the light and hopefully receive money for a meal. Nobody cared about that man. People had their own business to attend to, let alone give some of their hard earned money to a "cripple".
It was disheartening to see how people treat beggars, as if they are an annoyance and subhuman. If people won't help their fellow citizens then who will?
The face of that man always comes up whenever I give a dollar, or throw away leftover food. That same food and money could have gone to that man to afford three square meals, something so many take for granted. Going to India, seeing the real world outside of my little Michigan suburban bubble, helped shape me into the responsible and considerate world citizen that I have become and will always remain.
-[b]Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you.
Poverty. The state of one who lacks a usual or socially acceptable amount of money or material possessions. According to the World Bank, about 22% of the world's population fits that definition with a $1.25 income or lower per day. Being a first generation Indian American, I have frequently visited India. However, it isn't as flashy and vivacious as they portray in Bollywood. It can be a place of desolate hopelessness and misery if one just looks at the pile of bones, skin, and faded rags that lay on the sides of streets. The sight of homeless and impoverished children and elders can strike empathy in even the most callous of hearts. These visits to India have helped to shape some of my future dreams to help the needy and also the steps I have taken in my high school years
One vivid encounter that helped to shape my ideas was the first time I ever came face to face with a beggar at the age of eight. My family and I were driving in a car to a popular Indian cinema. As we stopped at a light, there was a tapping on my window and I looked to my right directly into the sunken eyes of a poor old man. Only, one of his eyes seemed to have been burnt, perhaps by a cigarette near the pupil. His skinny limbs and his amputated arm were a grim reminder of the hardships that he had endured. His white-bearded dark face spoke volumes about his experiences and endless days in the sun while his ragged gray shirt and faded blue-checkered cloth wrapped around his lower body showed his impoverished state. His silver tin pan glinted in the sunlight as he desperately asked for a few coins. I wanted to help the man by giving him a few rupees, but my parents said not to roll down the window and to stay put. The light turned green and I watched the poor old man hobble back over to his corner in the street waiting for the next round of people to stop at the light and hopefully receive money for a meal. Nobody cared about that man. People had their own business to attend to, let alone give some of their hard earned money to a "cripple".
It was disheartening to see how people treat beggars, as if they are an annoyance and subhuman. If people won't help their fellow citizens then who will?
The face of that man always comes up whenever I give a dollar, or throw away leftover food. That same food and money could have gone to that man to afford three square meals, something so many take for granted. Going to India, seeing the real world outside of my little Michigan suburban bubble, helped shape me into the responsible and considerate world citizen that I have become and will always remain.