This will be my common app essay and I really want some feedback on whether or not I come across the essay and if I actually answered the question. Thank you, any comments are really appreciated :)
I always had the false impression that mothers were at the heart of everything their children desired to be. Through time I have learned that not all mothers are like my mother.
When my family migrated to this country, my mother had to leave her profession as a doctor behind and instead, she had to focus on taking care of my brother and me. More than an influence, my mother is the voice in my head that continuously reinforces the values of hard work and determination in order to succeed. I have inherited her same optimism and drive, as well as her love for her occupation.
With the best smile she could offer at the moment, my mother greeted her patient and began asking the most mundane of questions in the liveliest of manners. The first time I saw my mother's relationship with her patients, I knew that I wanted to take care of people with her same enthusiasm and love. As I continued going with her to work, I developed special relationships with many of her patients. One of those patients is the diabetic Ramona. Ramona, being an old lonely Cuban, always needs help with something or other and I am always there to provide that help. Every time I go to Ramona's house I reprogram the remote control, or translate her mail, or call the pharmacy for Ramona's prescriptions to be delivered. My mother's gentility had infused into my treatment of others and my aspirations to become a physician were no longer based on the trite ideology of a thirteen year old that wanted to have a nametag with the initials MD at the end of her name. Instead, they were for the compensations of appreciation and usefulness that come with a healthcare career.
As a twelve year old, I would sit down with my mother every night to help her translate her nursing books from English to Spanish. Soon, I was learning about diseases such as diabetes, Alzheimer's, hypertension, and Parkinson's. When high school came along, I knew I wanted to explore the science world in greater depth. Science and math came naturally to me, but the humanities always gave me more difficulty. But my mother always told me that desire to do well was not enough; I also needed to continuously work hard to be successful. I would tell my mother that English and I were never to be mixed but she kept drilling the importance of being well rounded. Her restricted English was no help when I had to analyze Julius Caesar, but her disappointment was enough motivation. I sat down with my literature book and I began reading. It was no scientific observation or algebra equation but I was determined to obtain a comprehensive understanding of Shakespeare's prose.
My mother's sacrifices are the permanent forces behind my achievements and future goals. I do not only want to thank her for her sacrifices, I want to show her that I am worthy of them. I want her to know that without her, I would not be the person I am, nor the person I aim to be.
I always had the false impression that mothers were at the heart of everything their children desired to be. Through time I have learned that not all mothers are like my mother.
When my family migrated to this country, my mother had to leave her profession as a doctor behind and instead, she had to focus on taking care of my brother and me. More than an influence, my mother is the voice in my head that continuously reinforces the values of hard work and determination in order to succeed. I have inherited her same optimism and drive, as well as her love for her occupation.
With the best smile she could offer at the moment, my mother greeted her patient and began asking the most mundane of questions in the liveliest of manners. The first time I saw my mother's relationship with her patients, I knew that I wanted to take care of people with her same enthusiasm and love. As I continued going with her to work, I developed special relationships with many of her patients. One of those patients is the diabetic Ramona. Ramona, being an old lonely Cuban, always needs help with something or other and I am always there to provide that help. Every time I go to Ramona's house I reprogram the remote control, or translate her mail, or call the pharmacy for Ramona's prescriptions to be delivered. My mother's gentility had infused into my treatment of others and my aspirations to become a physician were no longer based on the trite ideology of a thirteen year old that wanted to have a nametag with the initials MD at the end of her name. Instead, they were for the compensations of appreciation and usefulness that come with a healthcare career.
As a twelve year old, I would sit down with my mother every night to help her translate her nursing books from English to Spanish. Soon, I was learning about diseases such as diabetes, Alzheimer's, hypertension, and Parkinson's. When high school came along, I knew I wanted to explore the science world in greater depth. Science and math came naturally to me, but the humanities always gave me more difficulty. But my mother always told me that desire to do well was not enough; I also needed to continuously work hard to be successful. I would tell my mother that English and I were never to be mixed but she kept drilling the importance of being well rounded. Her restricted English was no help when I had to analyze Julius Caesar, but her disappointment was enough motivation. I sat down with my literature book and I began reading. It was no scientific observation or algebra equation but I was determined to obtain a comprehensive understanding of Shakespeare's prose.
My mother's sacrifices are the permanent forces behind my achievements and future goals. I do not only want to thank her for her sacrifices, I want to show her that I am worthy of them. I want her to know that without her, I would not be the person I am, nor the person I aim to be.
