This essay is a bit lengthy, but I would be very grateful if anyone could read it over and give me some input as to whether it is engaging and informative. I had a lot to say, and I tend to be wordy, but I'm hoping it conveys who I am.
Prompt: Using the quotation below as a jumping off point, tell us about an event or experience that helped you define one of your values or changed how you approach the world:
''Some questions cannot be answered./ They become familiar weights in the hand,/ Round stones pulled from the pocket, unyielding and cool.''
-Jane Hirshfield, poet, Princeton Class of 1973
A Pocket Full of Stones and Diamonds
"When I'm THIS EXCITED, my vein usually POPS OUT! Can you see it!?" I most certainly could; it was impossible to miss. The man pacing the lecture hall had a protruding, blue-pulsing vein on his forehead as beads of sweat trickled down his jaw line. He was impossible to take seriously, but he was equally as difficult to ignore. Two hundred high school sophomores, each in a green t-shirt with "Michigan Youth Leadership Conference" printed boldly across the chest, stared attentively at the ball of energy before them, and every ear was tuned into the story he was sharing.
Two men are beginning a voyage into the desert when a sage confronts them and tells them that if they collect stones, some will transform into diamonds. At first, the men were excited, and they picked up stone after stone until their backpacks were full. However, after only a few days with such a burden, the first man dumped the lackluster stones onto the dry sand. In contrast, the second man persevered in hopes of seeing diamonds. A few weeks later, in accordance with the sage's wise words, he opened his bag to find it full of sparkling jewels.
At any other time, I may have regarded this story as nothing more than a catchy tale with a cheesy inspirational message. Instead, I felt my cheeks warm and my insides tingle-an unmistakable conviction that penetrated my mind, sank into my heart, and seared my vision, forever changing the way I approached the world. The speaker was urging the sea of green shirts not to go through life as the first man did. It was not this advice that changed me; I've always been that second man. I ask hard questions and test what I learn, but before this revelation, I would only pick up enough stones to fill my bag. If one really anticipated that even a few of those stones might become diamonds, wouldn't he fill his bag, his pockets, and carry armsful as well? Each time he passed an intriguing stone, wouldn't he add it to his collection by any means necessary?
At this point, I was nearing the end of my tenth grade Bible course on apologetics. The class emphasized defending one's beliefs by attempting to find answers to faith-shaking questions. At the start of the year, I was hesitant to pick up stones, questions, and drop them in my pocket. I almost looked down on the people who eagerly picked up these stones, thinking that they lacked faith because of the questions they were holding. It was a mindset of conformity and ignorance. In retrospect, I was the one who lacked faith. Some part of me didn't believe that those stones would ever become diamonds; that there were actually answers to defend Christ. However, as I realized that many of my stones had transformed, I began collecting more than anyone. I immersed myself in books and research so that I could defend why I believe what I do, even if just for myself. While many of these questions stubbornly refuse to resolve, I will continue to carry them and struggle under their weight with hope for an eventual transformation.
My search for stones is not limited to spiritual matters. I am wired to think logically; I am compelled to find the answers myself. Instead of memorizing calculus formulas, I read how they were derived. For AP Physics, I built circuits in my basement to truly understand electricity. After studying sleep-deprivation in my psychology class, I kept a two-week log of my energy level and ability to concentrate after varying amounts of sleep. My success in school is deeply rooted in the joy I feel when some of the many stones I've collected become diamonds-concepts learned or theories proven.
I sincerely believe that every great thinker has this in common-the capacity to carry a great burden of stones, even if none becomes diamonds. Persistence, passion, and innovation are what allowed Da Vinci, Aristotle, and Einstein to make so many discoveries. While they are credited for having more diamonds than most, they also suffered under the weight of more stones than most because "Some questions cannot be answered./ They become familiar weights in the hand,/ Round stones pulled from the pocket, unyielding and cool" (Hirshfield). No matter how my unyielding stones may weigh me down, the prospect of a shining jewel drives me to keep collecting stone after stone. After hearing the story of the men in the desert, I see that, even with the risk that it may never become more than a mere stone, every question is worth asking and every fact worth challenging because I do not know which of these dull weights will transform into a unique diamond, beautiful and priceless.
Prompt: Using the quotation below as a jumping off point, tell us about an event or experience that helped you define one of your values or changed how you approach the world:
''Some questions cannot be answered./ They become familiar weights in the hand,/ Round stones pulled from the pocket, unyielding and cool.''
-Jane Hirshfield, poet, Princeton Class of 1973
A Pocket Full of Stones and Diamonds
"When I'm THIS EXCITED, my vein usually POPS OUT! Can you see it!?" I most certainly could; it was impossible to miss. The man pacing the lecture hall had a protruding, blue-pulsing vein on his forehead as beads of sweat trickled down his jaw line. He was impossible to take seriously, but he was equally as difficult to ignore. Two hundred high school sophomores, each in a green t-shirt with "Michigan Youth Leadership Conference" printed boldly across the chest, stared attentively at the ball of energy before them, and every ear was tuned into the story he was sharing.
Two men are beginning a voyage into the desert when a sage confronts them and tells them that if they collect stones, some will transform into diamonds. At first, the men were excited, and they picked up stone after stone until their backpacks were full. However, after only a few days with such a burden, the first man dumped the lackluster stones onto the dry sand. In contrast, the second man persevered in hopes of seeing diamonds. A few weeks later, in accordance with the sage's wise words, he opened his bag to find it full of sparkling jewels.
At any other time, I may have regarded this story as nothing more than a catchy tale with a cheesy inspirational message. Instead, I felt my cheeks warm and my insides tingle-an unmistakable conviction that penetrated my mind, sank into my heart, and seared my vision, forever changing the way I approached the world. The speaker was urging the sea of green shirts not to go through life as the first man did. It was not this advice that changed me; I've always been that second man. I ask hard questions and test what I learn, but before this revelation, I would only pick up enough stones to fill my bag. If one really anticipated that even a few of those stones might become diamonds, wouldn't he fill his bag, his pockets, and carry armsful as well? Each time he passed an intriguing stone, wouldn't he add it to his collection by any means necessary?
At this point, I was nearing the end of my tenth grade Bible course on apologetics. The class emphasized defending one's beliefs by attempting to find answers to faith-shaking questions. At the start of the year, I was hesitant to pick up stones, questions, and drop them in my pocket. I almost looked down on the people who eagerly picked up these stones, thinking that they lacked faith because of the questions they were holding. It was a mindset of conformity and ignorance. In retrospect, I was the one who lacked faith. Some part of me didn't believe that those stones would ever become diamonds; that there were actually answers to defend Christ. However, as I realized that many of my stones had transformed, I began collecting more than anyone. I immersed myself in books and research so that I could defend why I believe what I do, even if just for myself. While many of these questions stubbornly refuse to resolve, I will continue to carry them and struggle under their weight with hope for an eventual transformation.
My search for stones is not limited to spiritual matters. I am wired to think logically; I am compelled to find the answers myself. Instead of memorizing calculus formulas, I read how they were derived. For AP Physics, I built circuits in my basement to truly understand electricity. After studying sleep-deprivation in my psychology class, I kept a two-week log of my energy level and ability to concentrate after varying amounts of sleep. My success in school is deeply rooted in the joy I feel when some of the many stones I've collected become diamonds-concepts learned or theories proven.
I sincerely believe that every great thinker has this in common-the capacity to carry a great burden of stones, even if none becomes diamonds. Persistence, passion, and innovation are what allowed Da Vinci, Aristotle, and Einstein to make so many discoveries. While they are credited for having more diamonds than most, they also suffered under the weight of more stones than most because "Some questions cannot be answered./ They become familiar weights in the hand,/ Round stones pulled from the pocket, unyielding and cool" (Hirshfield). No matter how my unyielding stones may weigh me down, the prospect of a shining jewel drives me to keep collecting stone after stone. After hearing the story of the men in the desert, I see that, even with the risk that it may never become more than a mere stone, every question is worth asking and every fact worth challenging because I do not know which of these dull weights will transform into a unique diamond, beautiful and priceless.