Hey there. :) I'm applying to the University of Washington-Seattle early action, and would appreciate if you could give any sort of objective criticism or feedback on my personal statement. Feel free to address any issues you find, whether they be grammatical or awkwardly worded phrases. Also, just a note: the word limit max is 600, but I have 619 words as of now, so if you find any unnecessary words throughout the text, please let me know. Thank you so much!
Prompt: Tell us a story from your life, describing an experience that either demonstrates your character or helped to shape it.
"Are you Korean or American?"
What got to me wasn't the fact that she demanded an answer, it was the implied insult if I chose the wrong over right. After all, I am a natural born citizen of the United States. I'm also full Korean, which means I can't be American... Or so, that's what I thought.
What happened was the following: my younger brother was called to the principal's office, and my mom received a phone call. Long story short, my brother got in serious trouble, and my mom was upset. In the midst of tears, she blamed herself over the situation. I reassured her, indicating that it wasn't her fault, that she had no control over what happened. My brother had made the mistake; therefore, he was responsible for his actions.
Here's what it came down to: "Are you Korean or American?"
The answer was simple. "I'm obviously Korean." She wasn't convinced.
Throughout the years, similar instances occurred. Instances in which a disconnect rammed itself into our relationship.
My mom originated from a poor family, so she wasn't given similar opportunities as her peers; hence, she viewed education as a primary means to success and was determined to earn commendable grades. Not to mention, she was the eldest of three and because her parents worked often, she was forced into a role of responsibility at a young age. My mom not only assisted her siblings with their homework, but also prepared their meals and tucked them into bed.
What I didn't understand was why she felt obligated to pester me over my homework. Or why she expected me to take responsibility of my brother.
Then, for seven months last year, my mom and I became distant. While she was at work, I balanced my schedule amongst several AP classes, babysitting, dance, volunteering, and friends. She came home in the evening, but by then, I would resume my homework before heading straight to bed. We didn't talk as much as we used to, so we grew apart.
Without her presence that I was accustomed to, I was obligated to begin my assignments, instead of waiting for her reminders. And because I was used to taking care of my brother, I continued to do so without classifying it as a chore.
That's when it all made sense.
How my mom wasn't imposing her presence for the sake of being annoying; she couldn't help it. Because while growing up, she believed excelling in school equated to an easier life, so her concern over my work was actually her ensuring my success. And because it was her job to take care of her siblings, she expected me to do the same. How in Korean culture, there is no "since Simon made the mistake, he was responsible," but as members of the family, we were just as responsible. Because I was analyzing the situation in an American perspective, as opposed to her Korean perspective, I never understood why she said the things she said or acted the way she acted. How the "disconnect" that rammed itself into our relationship was, indeed, a clash between two cultures.
But although it took my growing apart from my mom to arrive to this conclusion, I'm glad it happened. Because now, I'm able to differentiate between Korean and American culture. Now, I'm able to appreciate my mom as the person she truly is. And as a result, our relationship has grown stronger.
So, Elizabeth Ji, "Are you Korean or American?"
I know who I am, and I understand my cultural background. I'm proud to be the person I am today, so labels shouldn't matter. In fact, they don't matter, so I won't let them define me.
Prompt: Tell us a story from your life, describing an experience that either demonstrates your character or helped to shape it.
"Are you Korean or American?"
What got to me wasn't the fact that she demanded an answer, it was the implied insult if I chose the wrong over right. After all, I am a natural born citizen of the United States. I'm also full Korean, which means I can't be American... Or so, that's what I thought.
What happened was the following: my younger brother was called to the principal's office, and my mom received a phone call. Long story short, my brother got in serious trouble, and my mom was upset. In the midst of tears, she blamed herself over the situation. I reassured her, indicating that it wasn't her fault, that she had no control over what happened. My brother had made the mistake; therefore, he was responsible for his actions.
Here's what it came down to: "Are you Korean or American?"
The answer was simple. "I'm obviously Korean." She wasn't convinced.
Throughout the years, similar instances occurred. Instances in which a disconnect rammed itself into our relationship.
My mom originated from a poor family, so she wasn't given similar opportunities as her peers; hence, she viewed education as a primary means to success and was determined to earn commendable grades. Not to mention, she was the eldest of three and because her parents worked often, she was forced into a role of responsibility at a young age. My mom not only assisted her siblings with their homework, but also prepared their meals and tucked them into bed.
What I didn't understand was why she felt obligated to pester me over my homework. Or why she expected me to take responsibility of my brother.
Then, for seven months last year, my mom and I became distant. While she was at work, I balanced my schedule amongst several AP classes, babysitting, dance, volunteering, and friends. She came home in the evening, but by then, I would resume my homework before heading straight to bed. We didn't talk as much as we used to, so we grew apart.
Without her presence that I was accustomed to, I was obligated to begin my assignments, instead of waiting for her reminders. And because I was used to taking care of my brother, I continued to do so without classifying it as a chore.
That's when it all made sense.
How my mom wasn't imposing her presence for the sake of being annoying; she couldn't help it. Because while growing up, she believed excelling in school equated to an easier life, so her concern over my work was actually her ensuring my success. And because it was her job to take care of her siblings, she expected me to do the same. How in Korean culture, there is no "since Simon made the mistake, he was responsible," but as members of the family, we were just as responsible. Because I was analyzing the situation in an American perspective, as opposed to her Korean perspective, I never understood why she said the things she said or acted the way she acted. How the "disconnect" that rammed itself into our relationship was, indeed, a clash between two cultures.
But although it took my growing apart from my mom to arrive to this conclusion, I'm glad it happened. Because now, I'm able to differentiate between Korean and American culture. Now, I'm able to appreciate my mom as the person she truly is. And as a result, our relationship has grown stronger.
So, Elizabeth Ji, "Are you Korean or American?"
I know who I am, and I understand my cultural background. I'm proud to be the person I am today, so labels shouldn't matter. In fact, they don't matter, so I won't let them define me.
