I need some reviews for my essay.. about someone who impacted my life...:)
I'm wondering whether i'm just telling a story or whether i wrote it well pertaining to me...D:
so this is it:)
I am a "normal" girl. I have all ten fingers, all ten toes, two legs, and two arms. I can walk normally, I can write normally, and I can see normally. Like anybody else in the world out there, I blend in. I have never thought of anyone not having what I have and what everyone should have naturally. I have NEVER EVER seen anyone lacking those things... until I encountered a wonderful girl named Sarah in my 8th grade English class.
It was the first day of school, me as an 8th grader. Most of the people in my English class were new to me, since it was the first time that I took a Pre AP class after I moved to Texas from South Korea. Uncomfortable and anti-social, I was alone, not knowing anyone; it seemed like everyone was having a great time saying hi to their old friends. However, after several days later, I gradually got used to everyone in the class. I made new friends, and the class was exciting enough for me to enjoy because the summer reading assignment was Sir Conan Doyle's The Hound of the Baskerville: absolutely my favorite.
We were passing around the scantrons for the quiz that we had that day. I was handing them to a white girl next to me, and without a thought, I gasped. Her hand, which was stretched toward me to get the scantron, didn't have a finger. It looked demented and unfamiliar; I was speechless. Conscious of my shock, that girl slowly retrieved her hand. I felt horrible-I didn't mean to judge her like that because her hand didn't have a finger. Awkward and frustrated at myself, I couldn't talk or see her directly into her eyes that day.
That evening, I kept thinking about her hand and how I reacted to it. I was so ashamed of myself because I probably hurt her feelings. I stared at her like she was an alien from the other planet. Then I thought of my dad, who has a leg that doesn't bend since his unfortunate childhood accident. How could I do that to her, while I, myself, have seen my dad limping all my life? I luckily don't have any disabilities that would separate me from rest of the people, and I am thankful; however, that doesn't mean that I can be prejudiced against those disabled people. "Normal" people like me have a tendency to be partial in their judgment toward the disabled. A big mistake. If not having a finger or having an abnormal leg means that person is weird, I must be also weird because my eyes are not normal. Considering that, how many people who are not "normal" are out there in this planet?
The next day, I sincerely apologized to that girl without a finger. She kindheartedly smiled at me and forgave me. Then she told me her name, Sarah, and how thankful she is for me to open my heart at her disability. Her response was shocking. She was never ashamed of her hand because she can write as normal as I can, can play sports better than I can (I am very challenged in playing any sports), and can handle daily tasks well. Because it makes her distinguished and special from anybody else, she told me she is blessed. Jealous of her confidence and ashamed of my mistake, I once again was reminded how easy it is to look down upon disabled people and how selfish I was when I rudely stared at her finger.
In the summer of 2011, at the National Youth Leadership Forum that I attended, I saw a girl in a wheelchair. Like any other scholars, she did all the activities without any hard ship, and even made everyone laugh with her wheelchair tricks. She reminded me of a girl without a finger.
I'm wondering whether i'm just telling a story or whether i wrote it well pertaining to me...D:
so this is it:)
I am a "normal" girl. I have all ten fingers, all ten toes, two legs, and two arms. I can walk normally, I can write normally, and I can see normally. Like anybody else in the world out there, I blend in. I have never thought of anyone not having what I have and what everyone should have naturally. I have NEVER EVER seen anyone lacking those things... until I encountered a wonderful girl named Sarah in my 8th grade English class.
It was the first day of school, me as an 8th grader. Most of the people in my English class were new to me, since it was the first time that I took a Pre AP class after I moved to Texas from South Korea. Uncomfortable and anti-social, I was alone, not knowing anyone; it seemed like everyone was having a great time saying hi to their old friends. However, after several days later, I gradually got used to everyone in the class. I made new friends, and the class was exciting enough for me to enjoy because the summer reading assignment was Sir Conan Doyle's The Hound of the Baskerville: absolutely my favorite.
We were passing around the scantrons for the quiz that we had that day. I was handing them to a white girl next to me, and without a thought, I gasped. Her hand, which was stretched toward me to get the scantron, didn't have a finger. It looked demented and unfamiliar; I was speechless. Conscious of my shock, that girl slowly retrieved her hand. I felt horrible-I didn't mean to judge her like that because her hand didn't have a finger. Awkward and frustrated at myself, I couldn't talk or see her directly into her eyes that day.
That evening, I kept thinking about her hand and how I reacted to it. I was so ashamed of myself because I probably hurt her feelings. I stared at her like she was an alien from the other planet. Then I thought of my dad, who has a leg that doesn't bend since his unfortunate childhood accident. How could I do that to her, while I, myself, have seen my dad limping all my life? I luckily don't have any disabilities that would separate me from rest of the people, and I am thankful; however, that doesn't mean that I can be prejudiced against those disabled people. "Normal" people like me have a tendency to be partial in their judgment toward the disabled. A big mistake. If not having a finger or having an abnormal leg means that person is weird, I must be also weird because my eyes are not normal. Considering that, how many people who are not "normal" are out there in this planet?
The next day, I sincerely apologized to that girl without a finger. She kindheartedly smiled at me and forgave me. Then she told me her name, Sarah, and how thankful she is for me to open my heart at her disability. Her response was shocking. She was never ashamed of her hand because she can write as normal as I can, can play sports better than I can (I am very challenged in playing any sports), and can handle daily tasks well. Because it makes her distinguished and special from anybody else, she told me she is blessed. Jealous of her confidence and ashamed of my mistake, I once again was reminded how easy it is to look down upon disabled people and how selfish I was when I rudely stared at her finger.
In the summer of 2011, at the National Youth Leadership Forum that I attended, I saw a girl in a wheelchair. Like any other scholars, she did all the activities without any hard ship, and even made everyone laugh with her wheelchair tricks. She reminded me of a girl without a finger.