UC prompt:USC's speaker series "What Matters to Me and Why" asks faculty and staff to reflect on their values, beliefs, and motivations. Presenters talk about choices they have made, difficulties encountered, and commitments solidified. Write an essay about an event or experience that helped you learn what is important to you and why it is important.
Can anyone please tell me if it is adequately structured and if my essay answers the prompt. Thank you!
It was me against a one-ton, metal, forty mile-per-hour moving machine; I almost lost, indefinitely. Life hit me that day, with that van, to wake me from my childish interpretation of the world and violently rip the veil of immaturity from my eyes. As I lay on the side of the road, my naivety slowly blacked out with my eyes and when I came to, I believe my real life began. With an experience like that at twelve years old, I got a wake up call stronger and way beyond anything I had ever experienced before, it was literally a life changing moment.
It was the 21st of May of 2004 and I got up that morning with the alarm clock blaring, like any day before it. My parents were, as always, already at work so I got up myself and began to get ready for school. I washed my face, ate breakfast my mom set out for me and got dressed in under fifteen minutes. I rushed at unnatural speeds so that I could do what I longed for every morning, play Playstation without time restriction from my parents. I played every morning without my parents knowing and I felt smart that I was able to get around their rules without any consequence. The side effect to my playing, however, was that every morning I would be running to school so I would not be late. My alarm clock was set at one hour before school started, but I would always leave five minutes before the school bell would ring. That day in May I played my games, turned the console off, put on my backpack, locked my door, sprinted down my stairs and across street without looking. I didn't expect anything, nor did I understand what was happening as I was struck by a van going at about forty miles per hour, rolled on the windshield, cracked it, rolled about two feet on the roof of the van, and collapsed on the side of the road. As I lay there with my vision being conquered by vibrating strips and lines of black, I remember the white van speeding off and making a right turn, the driver probably thinking that I was killed. I awoke a few seconds later and realized I was being pulled off the road by an old man that was cursing at me for my stupidity. I looked down and my legs and noticed that something didn't look right, my left leg was a bit too loose as it was being dragged. Then the pain came. I had fractured my leg badly and it was only ten months later that I would walk again normally, ten grueling months, ten months of suffering.
Thankfully that was the worst part, I was not hurt in any other way except a few bumps and bruises. It wasn't, however, the physical ails that bothered me, it was the realization that I could have died. Never before in my twelve years had I seriously formulated the idea that I could die; sure I saw much of it in movies and such, but never did I imagine that it could really happen to me. As I was confined to my bed for the next two months, I began analyzing aspects of my life, as now I had an idea of mortality wedged in deeply. I realized that the main reason that I got into this situation was my own carelessness, my own disregard of my parents' warnings, my own childish pursuits and overall my own view of the world's workings. During and after my recovery, looking back, I felt that I had started to be much more organized, more acute with everything. Situations that before I wouldn't think much of, now received deep analysis; it is safe, what negative outcomes may come from doing this, is it worth it? This new, organized, mature method of thought really turned my life around for the better. I started begin more responsible and successful in my schoolwork. Also, after I recovered fully, I went back to my swim team and managed to perform even better than I did before my accident. The accident, no matter how terrible, was worth it. It may seem like a terrible thing to say, but I know that with its passing that I am the person that I am today.
While your first paragraph is good, I think the essay would start out stronger if you make the second paragraph the first. You should, of course, incorporate the first one in there too because it's great writing.
Anything else I could find to mention, you can easily fix by reading the essay out loud to yourself;
I looked down and my legs and noticed that...
Situations that before I wouldn't think much of, now received deep analysis; it is safe, what negative outcomes may come from doing this, is it worth it?
It was me against a one-ton, metal, forty mile-per-hour moving machine. I almost lost, indefinitely.
I crossed off that part that does not makes sense to me... "indefinitely" does not seem to work there.
You have some excellent writing here, though!! Life hit you with a van. That same thing happened to another great writer a few years ago -- Stephen King was hit by a van while taking a walk. What is this with writers getting hit by vans? We had better watch out...
