Imagine looking through a window at any environment that is particularly significant to you. Reflect on the scene, paying close attention to the relation between what you are seeing and why it is meaningful to you. Please limit your statement to 300 words.
NEED IT AS CLOSE TO 300 WORDS AS POSSIBLE!
"Books Not Bars"
I put my hands over my face, closed my eyes, and breathed deeply. I looked out the window one more time; unsurprisingly, the scene was still the same. I had dreams about this moment for two weeks. Literally, a thousand public school students stood in front of the Maryland State Department of Education on the side of Baltimore Street. I could see their hands completely numb with posters reading, "Youth Jobs Not Jails" and "Books Not Bars."
It was 10:05 in the morning. I, along with the ninety-seven students from my high school, that I organized to attend, were the last two buses to arrive. The cold March fourth morning, a national day of action to defend education, was sparked from a single protest, at the University of California, Berkeley. A year later, students in several cities around the world organized rallies, speak-outs, and demonstrations to decry budget cuts that directly hurt public-school programs. The Baltimore Algebra Project (BAP), a youth-led organization that focuses on tutoring in mathematics while promoting social justice, took the lead organizing in Baltimore.
As someone who is dedicated to social change, I felt euphoric, seeing young people my age who have the same desires as me. As the BAP's chair of the advocacy committee, I had sat through extensive strategy meetings, sent masses of emails, and spoke at events, in an effort to organize supporters. This day highlighted the fact that while Baltimore city schools struggle to find enough money for supplies, programs, and books, state legislators continue to fund the construction of new youth detention centers.
Before I exited the bus, I closed my eyes once more. On the other side of that window, was the justification for all of my knocking on doors and putting up fliers. I knew that even if we didn't get the response that we would have liked from Governor Martin O'Malley, the history that was being created- that I helped facilitate was enough.
After marching a mile, chanting while panting, police helicopters circled overhead, as we crowded in front of the Baltimore Juvenile Justice Center. Two hours went by; we had all thought we would be arrested by this time. We ended the rally with adrenaline and fire burning in everyone's body.
The next day, there were floods of emails asking, "What's going to happen next?" And once again, I felt euphoric.
NEED IT AS CLOSE TO 300 WORDS AS POSSIBLE!
"Books Not Bars"
I put my hands over my face, closed my eyes, and breathed deeply. I looked out the window one more time; unsurprisingly, the scene was still the same. I had dreams about this moment for two weeks. Literally, a thousand public school students stood in front of the Maryland State Department of Education on the side of Baltimore Street. I could see their hands completely numb with posters reading, "Youth Jobs Not Jails" and "Books Not Bars."
It was 10:05 in the morning. I, along with the ninety-seven students from my high school, that I organized to attend, were the last two buses to arrive. The cold March fourth morning, a national day of action to defend education, was sparked from a single protest, at the University of California, Berkeley. A year later, students in several cities around the world organized rallies, speak-outs, and demonstrations to decry budget cuts that directly hurt public-school programs. The Baltimore Algebra Project (BAP), a youth-led organization that focuses on tutoring in mathematics while promoting social justice, took the lead organizing in Baltimore.
As someone who is dedicated to social change, I felt euphoric, seeing young people my age who have the same desires as me. As the BAP's chair of the advocacy committee, I had sat through extensive strategy meetings, sent masses of emails, and spoke at events, in an effort to organize supporters. This day highlighted the fact that while Baltimore city schools struggle to find enough money for supplies, programs, and books, state legislators continue to fund the construction of new youth detention centers.
Before I exited the bus, I closed my eyes once more. On the other side of that window, was the justification for all of my knocking on doors and putting up fliers. I knew that even if we didn't get the response that we would have liked from Governor Martin O'Malley, the history that was being created- that I helped facilitate was enough.
After marching a mile, chanting while panting, police helicopters circled overhead, as we crowded in front of the Baltimore Juvenile Justice Center. Two hours went by; we had all thought we would be arrested by this time. We ended the rally with adrenaline and fire burning in everyone's body.
The next day, there were floods of emails asking, "What's going to happen next?" And once again, I felt euphoric.