Write Here. Write Now.: January 2015

Friday, January 23, 2015

"This I Believe: Above the World" by Cadence Sinclair

I believe in the power of flying. All of my life, everything important to me had been concentrated in one town. Sure, I'd been on plenty of road trips up and down the east coast, but my experience mostly consisted of piercing headaches and claustrophobia. The places I had traveled to just didn't feel extraordinary. Perhaps they lacked glitter to me because the journey itself was so close to the ground, so gritty and stressful. Once we'd reached the destination, according to our MapQuest directions, everyone was exhausted and irritable. Most people don't feel as cynical as I do about road trips, but I guess it all comes down to my childhood aspirations.

When I can't fall asleep, I always imagine floating over sleepy cities in a hot air balloon at night: a soothing sort of travel, yet vibrant in its scenery. Peter Pan was also my favorite childhood Disney movie, and my favorite part was when the pirate ship soared into the Neverland skies at the end, blazing with pixie dust. I remember watching that scene over and over and wondering how I could defy gravity. I connect flying with the idea of running alongside infinity, beating time at its own game. It's this concept of going so fast that everything around you slows and freezes and you're enwrapped with the sensation of being magical and free.

Last summer, I buzzed over LA in a plane. Take-off was at midnight, and I remember yawning every few seconds and complaining to my parents about the fact that I was going to have to sleep sitting upright. As I waited in line at the terminal with my family, the world was blurry. As I made my way to my spot of the plane, I was stumbling and aching to finally collapse with my head rested against the window. Luckily, that seat was mine. I heard the great rumbling of our ascent at last, and once we were at level with the clouds, I deliriously rolled my hand a little to the left. Then I saw it: the gleaming city beneath the stars. I was awed by the surreal blend of a clear night sky and twinkling LA lights. It transcended any other sight I'd ever deemed 'pretty.' What I saw was worth more than a simple adjective. I couldn't wrap it up in a neat little box and throw away the key. I suddenly knew what it was like to sync watches with the gentle waltz of the cosmos, while still hovering just a breath above human busyness. From so far up, the busyness dissolved into a silent, radiant pulse, and the inky black sky teased me with its mysterious beauty. I realized how tiny people truly are, but how hard they try to be big and bright.

I gained perspective on that night, and suddenly I knew that through flying, I could embark on the greatest of adventures, travel beyond the ordinary scope. I couldn't figure out why every other airplane window had the curtain drawn, but I still believe wholeheartedly in the power of flying.

"This I Believe: The Best Place to Live" by Olivia

I remember being taught in elementary school that America is one big “Melting Pot”. I understood my country was diverse and that’s what made it unique. As a student I’ve had classes with kids of various races and ethnicities, and have been raised in an environment that doesn’t see color. However it was native for me to think this was the case for everyone else around the world.

I remember being told before my family trip to China in the summer of 2012 that there would be a major cultural difference. My parents warned me I would get stares, and while walking around Beijing, China I experienced it first-hand. Not only did people stare at me, but some people even followed my family and I. Throughout my whole trip in China, Chinese people as young as 10 and as old as 40 would come up to me and my sister and ask to take their picture with us, making me feel like a celebrity. This was outrageous to me and I began to realize how isolated China was from the rest of the world. Yes, I dressed and talked differently but I never thought that people would look at me with surprised eyes and confusion. Especially being half Asian, I can’t image what they would do if I had blond her and blue eyes. A difference I noticed was that, In general everyone had the same hair color and dressed in the same darker shades of color. The lack of uniqueness in fashion and style was unusual for a big city in China and is significantly different compared to an American city like New York City. The most shocking incent however occurred later in my trip when my family and me went to the Great Wall. It was a very hot day and my dad took off his shirt. Being half Arabic, he had quiet the amount of body hair and judging by the horrified looks my father was getting, this was not something common for Chinese people. One woman, when seeing my father, screamed and grabbed her child to shield them away from my father.

My trip to China made me appreciate America and its diversity. Something like this would never occur in the United States. Americans welcome diversity and respect uniqueness and in China diversity seemed to be rare or limited. It was surprising to learn that a culture could be so isolated and unaware of other cultures around the world. This made me love my country even more. I realized there was no other country in the world with as many interracial marriages or integrated schools. I feel fortune to have grown up with diversity and to eventually have kids that will grow up in the same environment as well. I finally understood what it meant for America to be one big “melting pot”. My country is built on diversity and for that reason I believe the United States is the best place to live.

"This I Believe: Feminism" by Sam

Middle School sucks. It’s a time of awkward social interactions, figuring out where you fit in, puberty, and mean kids so you shouldn’t be surprised that I don’t often find myself thinking about my middle school years. Yet here I was, sitting at my desk remembering my frustration in my sixth grade science class with the history of the DNA model. “Watson and Crick created the first DNA model with the help of research from scientist Rosalind Franklin” read the textbook in front of every one of the sixteen students in the class, but my teacher soon enlightened us that Franklin did more than just “help”. Watson and Crick used the information without her consent and took all the credit while she literally died for her work by contracting cancer through radiation poisoning.

I remember bubbling with anger at how unfair it was that they went on to win a Nobel Prize for the discovery of DNA and other awards for research that they didn’t even do. Yet somehow, even with the public knowledge of their, essential thievery, these two men are still revered in the science community while Franklin is a name almost forgotten, an add-on to the story of Watson and Crick. She had done all the work and they took the credit by simply putting it into 3D form. I was so angry I couldn’t help but asking my teacher why she wasn’t the one getting the recognition, or why Watson and Crick didn’t get into trouble. He just shrugged it off like the rest of the world seemed to have as well, and we continued trudging through the rest of the content. Although I wasn’t thinking about it at the time, I believe this to be one of the first instances of me becoming a feminist.

This is world is unfair. It is unequal and unjust, especially when it comes to gender roles. I believe in “the social, political, and economic equality of the sexes” as Beyonce puts it in the interlude of her song “Flawless”. How is it fair that men get paid more than women? Why is that men can’t cry in public and women can’t be tough? People should be allowed to be who they want to be and do what they want to do… this is America for godsake! People don't fit into cookie cutter stereotypes. They are unique individuals who shouldn’t be bound by what society says. Unfortunately we’ve all contracted a disease, one that is embedded deep, even in the small things in our culture.

In commercials or ads women are portrayed as frail, helpless beings with unattainable perfection. Damsels in Distress. The women in my life aren’t like that. My grandmother lived behind the Iron Curtain, endured years of oppression, managed to escape with her family of five, and not only survive but thrive in America. My mother is one of the strongest people I know. She came to this country not knowing a single word of English and in less than four years was studying in one a prestigious college, even earning one of the very few spots available to study abroad in her junior year.

It saddens me when my nine-year-old sister doesn’t think she can do something because it is too boyish, or that girls shouldn’t try that, and as much as we may try this problem goes too deep to be a simple fix. People need to open their eyes and culture needs to change its outlook because as I see it, things right now aren’t right. This movement is happening, and although we have a long way to go and it may take years upon years I believe, as a nation, we can achieve equality for all.

"This I Believe: Daydreaming" by Marcus

I believe in daydreaming.

I believe in letting your thoughts overtake you and creating your own fantastic reality. I believe it is my right as a pioneer of imagination to be whoever, wherever, or whatever I want to be.

I’ve been daydreaming since day one. As long as I can remember, the world just … wasn’t exciting enough for me. I wanted to do more, and become one of the greats. I didn’t know how, but I wanted badly to become somebody, instead of this boring, responsible student. I dreamt about becoming a hero to save the day. I’d fly and fight and rescue damsels in distress; a way to de-stress myself.

I believe that your dreams mean something spectacular. They have been philosophized and pondered about for generations, but no one actually knows why we dream. There have been several theories, but I’ve found that I can only settle on one reason: our minds are trying to tell us something important.

I believe that our soul is never truly asleep, and it is constantly trying to grow and evolve and lead us to who we are meant to become. When we sleep, all of our inhibitions and fears and common sense is thrown out of the window, and our deepest desires and ideals come out to play; an all-out brawl with no boundaries.

And now you see, in that drunken, dazed, half-asleep mind of yours, your dreams. Most likely, your mind is showing you something you need to see. Now what would happen if you take the next step to making your dreams become your reality? You would have to translate your dreams into your everyday thoughts: daydreaming. Daydreaming is the next step toward what you need to become. After that, it’s just making sure that you work hard at your goal to make it come true.

Daydreaming can exist at any time or place, as long as you can picture it clearly. Personally, I enjoy listening to music when I daydream; a sort of soundtrack to use as a framework. Quite often, to go along with my action dreams I would listen to heroic soundtracks or lyric-less songs. This would enhance and better organize the picture in my mind.

For the longest time I struggled with trying to find out who I am and what my plan of action is for the next few years. I didn’t realize that the answer was right in front of me, all of my life. I wanted to save the day, and I didn’t need superpowers to do it. I realized that all I really want in life is a good cause to fight for and devote myself to. I decided to actually leave the comforting nest that is my room and search for a new cause. I found so many new things: robotics, volunteering, and most importantly: people.

Daydreaming has become a large part of my life, and I’ve come to really respect it. It’s helped me through a lot of tough times. And of all the things I’m thankful for, I’ve really got to hand it to God for the imagination that He’s put into my mind. I am who I am today because of my dreams and imagination that I’ve turned into reality.

So whenever you find yourself questioning yourself or have doubts about who you are and what you’re supposed to do, just sleep on it.

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

December 2014 Statistics

Friday, January 16, 2015

"This I Believe: Reliance" by Bryce

Independence has become widely valued in our society. It's something that is achieved, not given. People become respected in their self-sufficiency, but too often we get caught in this mindset resulting in an over confidence in our own abilities.

I used to be like this, and to be honest, parts of me still are. Suspended in my own happenings, blurring the boundaries of how far I can go by myself. This wasn't my being selfish, was just merely my faithfulness in my own autonomy. I've struggled with epilepsy for a lot of my life, brought on by frantic environmental stimulation or sever exhaustion. I found my limits with this, pushing myself to see how far I could go without losing consciousness and clattering mentally. I did this without emotional reliance, hung up on the thought it was mine to handle, blocking out anyone who was, "Sorry for me". Something that I did not count on though, was how this trialed mentality carried with me. I never felt like I needed to stoop to a point where I would have to rely on others for support. This became a fault going forward, because as my negativity proliferated, I was never able to feel a sense of release; I kept it all inside.

As my head hung lower, so did my spirits. It wasn't so much of a matter of me refusing to reach out, as it was me letting people in. I saw others around me establishing a bond, but I was too naïve to be aware that they were based upon a mutual sentiment. My Lone Wolf approach to life morphed into a hindrance as I found that I was stranded in my emotional solitude. This millstone around my neck crushed the very part of me that was supposed to keep me together; and when I reached for help in the worst of my times, there was no one to be found.

I believe that people need somebody.

There is an undeniable part of our make-up that requires close people around us, people that we can express without fear to. Too often we see each other as judges of our character, and we are ignorant in this respect. The same person that sees me for my negative, has their own conflicts that they are dealing with internally. We should not criticize each other for these faulty factors, but instead realize that they are just another somebody in need of our acceptance.

This can be hard to do as our current world is convoluted with a social regard that classifies any heartfelt appeal as a sign of weakness. I know that this was true for me, and because of it, I thought I had some proud traction by my ability to care for myself. I thought that all I could possibly need for my own well being can be tended to by myself, but this is not the case. There are portions of us that irrevocably call for an outside voice. Not even to provide advice, just another body that could somehow sympathize with whatever we are feeling in the moment. To let us know that we do not have to bare all of these adversities by ourselves. Whoever this listener may be, let us dare not think selfish of ourselves. To be caught up in the idea that our problems would be openly jeered at is silly. We should instead see and have confidence in that they have their own taints about them as well, making them people that would not judge us for our own.

"This I Believe: Mac and Cheese" by Jaiden

This December, Advanced Composition students studied, wrote, and recorded audio essays. Students wrote and recorded their own "This I Believe" essays inspired by the weekly This I Believe Podcast. While we're publishing the text of each essay below, we strongly encourage you to listen to each student's audio essay for a more intimate experience

As I grew up, I bounced from my mother's house to my father's house. Every other weekend I was shipped off to my father's house. Being an introvert, it was a very hectic and annoying schedule for me. I didn't like to leave the comfort of my home. My parents have been separated since I was three, so I was used to the constant moving. On the weekends that I was with my father, he sensed my hostility. He did everything he could to make me feel comfortable. Most of these things were extravagant. He wanted to go places every weekend. That didn't impress my young mind. I just wanted to stay indoors and play with toys.

Finally, my father gave up and he retreated to more modest ways. Every Saturday we would stay in his small, cramped apartment and watch a movie. Our favorites were Dumb and Dumber and anything that had Adam Sandler in it. To go along with our A1 movies, we had a 5-star meal. Usually, we ate mac and cheese or pizza. My dad was a very health-conscious man. Every time we were together we always knew that we were going to watch these movies with our special dinner. So, after a few weekends, we trademarked these acts as our own little routine.

When I was only 11, my father passed away. It changed my life completely. I went from a young happy child to someone that was fatherless. The mourning period was long and vicious, but while I was mourning, I went back to the routines that comforted me when he was alive. They made me feel secure.

I believe in the power that routines have. By adding small routines to our daily lives we can become more comfortable with everything we do. When we come home we fall into our simple but important routines like taking off your shoes at the door, hanging up your keys, and changing from your work clothes. You can just feel the stress lift off of your shoulders, and that's how I felt every times I was with my father. These routines can make us feel safe and stress free. When I begin our routine, it feels like I get a giant hug from my father. I just feel safe.

While I was grieving after my father's death, I always went back to these routines. In a way, it felt like it sped up the entire grieving process. It made me feel like he was with me in spirit and this made me feel happy as I could be in that point and time in my life. Somehow, I could feel him laughing at the part in Dumb and Dumber when Jim Carrey and Jeff Daniels arrive to the hotel in ridiculous outfits. It just feels like his soul is trapped inside our routine, and that's good. It's amazing how something so small as a movie and a pot of mac and cheese made me feel so happy, and still continues to make me feel that way. After that, I knew why people called it comfort food. It just goes to show how much routines impact us. The smaller the routine, the larger the impact.

"This I Believe: A Different Kind of Princess" by Nina

Growing up, my childhood was highly influenced by Disney films. The princesses and princes, the castles, the dresses; it was all a dream come true. I fantasized day and night about making fairy tales like those come to life. I dreamed about one day finding my Prince Charming and moving far, far away where he and I could live happily ever after, but that wasn't the case.

My childhood was a breeze. No cares in the world and free to feel and think whatever I wanted. There was no judgment and everyone got along. During elementary school, I was determined to live out my fairy tale fantasy. Seems foolish, I know, but at that time I was ignorant and gullible. I was under the impression that women were meant to find love at a young age. Once middle school came around, I was totally ready for love. I met this boy. He was tall, brown haired and blue eyed with a radiant smile. I knew I had found him; my one true love. When I confessed my love for him he responded with, "I'm sorry, but I don't like fat girls".

Numb. That’s what I was. That’s what I was feeling. It were those few words that broke my heart and scarred me for life. It had never occurred to me that my weight would be a factor in whether loving me was okay. Looking back, I'd always known the prince falling for the princess for her generosity and genuinely kind soul. After further observation, it was clear that every single princess that had been swept off her feet was not only kind and generous, but thin and beautiful.

Ever since that day, I'd question my whole belief system. What was beauty? Why am I not considered beautiful? My soul was crushed and I didn't know how to heal. I spent the rest of my middle school years trying to change my appearance. I experimented with all kinds of fashion styles and cosmetic products but that didn't change how I looked and felt underneath. I needed a drastic change. I tried working out, but I would begin to feel discouraged when I didn't see results. At this point, I was desperate. I began starving myself. I avoided eating at all costs and when I did, I'd forcefully vomit to rid my body of the empty carbs. Because of this sick obsession, I developed an eating disorder.

You may ask yourself, "How crazy would someone have to be to put their health in jeopardy"? Well, I acted without reasonable thinking and I didn't consider the subsequent consequences. It’s insane to think that because of one thing someone said to me 5 years ago, I’d be suffering from a long and life-threatening disorder. I was so infatuated with this idea of falling in love, that I blinded missed the actual meaning of it. What is love anyway? And why is it so damn appealing? My definition back then was that regardless of your personality, you must be physically attractive in order to be loved. However, through the course of my disorder and treatment, I’ve learned that love is when you can be yourself, inside and out, and that special someone will appreciate you for being you.

I had always thought that if I had a beautiful face and a thinner body figure, then I’d find someone to love me, but I was completely wrong. Today, I am a 17 year old recovering bulimic and I believe that, while I’m not the thinnest girl in the world, I still deserve a happily ever after. I battled through some of the toughest obstacles anyone could ever endure in a lifetime, but it’s made me who I am and I’m grateful for it everyday. And even though I may never find my prince charming, or live in a palace far, far away, my life had always kind of been a fairy tale. It’s a different Disney story and I’m a different kind of princess.

"This I Believe: Time" by Jessie

This December, Advanced Composition students studied, wrote, and recorded audio essays. Students wrote and recorded their own "This I Believe" essays inspired by the weekly This I Believe Podcast.

“Your dad is in the hospital.” Realization struck as I sat down at the table in my grandmother’s house. Earlier that day I had a sense something was wrong, something I could just feel. An eerie feeling when my mom told me that Jamie, my best friend Joanie’s mom, was going to pick me up after school. When I stepped into Jamie’s car she said she didn’t know why my mom wasn’t home. At that point I finally was certain something bad had happened. There was no way my mom would ask her to pick me up and not clue Jamie in on what was happening.

When Jamie dropped me off at my grandma’s house instead of my own, I braced myself. As I walked through the door I was taken aback by how normal my grandma was acting. Trying to stay calm I asked what could possibly be going on when she told me then news. My dad had a seizure and that’s all the doctors seemed to know. My dad has his own electrical company and had been at a job when he started feeling weird, and collapsed. Fast forward 6 hours, and everyone was still so confused on why he had this seizure. It took almost five months for doctors to realize that the seizure was triggered by a tumor in his brain that is cancerous.

Those long months were hard and even afterwards the realization is hard to wrap my mind around. After the fact, realizing that my dad could have had a seizure while driving and died is what hit home. The thought of how much worse things could have gone is what led me to this conclusion of appreciation.

The idea of not taking people for granted is so simple and it’s something that has been said a lot over the years. I think every family feels as if they truly do show how much one another means to them. That’s what I thought too, and it took this incident to realize how wrong I was. No one can be “ready” for something as detrimental as this was. As I constantly was waiting for news about my dad, millions of things I hadn’t told him yet went through my mind. It was scary to think that that’s all they would ever be, thoughts in my mind.

I have learned to stress the idea of not letting anything go unsaid. The idea to appreciate the time you have with others. I believe in not taking time for granted. Time on this earth is limited and a special thing. You never know when someone’s’ time will run out and how much longer you have to say everything you need to. No longer will I allow my fears to leave anything unsaid, because even if it is hard to say I know it would be harder to live with it never being said at all.

Friday, January 9, 2015

"This I Believe: A Different Kind of Genius" by Sofia

I used to take those multiple intelligence quizzes all the time. In school and out, I’d take them again and again and try to find new ones. I wanted to find out more about myself, yes, but what I really wanted was to get the answer I was looking for. There were mixed results. In many aspects, I’m entirely average. Mathematically and kinesthetically, I’m only okay. My logic skills are just good enough to get through tests. I’m a decent artist and a good writer, but I’d never consider myself a genius in my art. Natural intelligence and musical intelligence rank pretty low for me, and spatial intelligence isn’t even in question- I could get lost in my own neighborhood. It seemed to me that I didn’t have many strengths at all.

I didn’t want to call myself stupid. Nobody does, of course. However, the truth of the matter is that, from a pessimistic point of view, we're all stupid. That's not to say that everyone is useless at math or gets all F's, because clearly that's not the case, we have engineers and physics professors. We've split the atom and received photos from Mars, but that says nothing about intelligence as a whole. I believe that intelligence has many forms, and that they should all be viewed as equally important.

Most people respect the intelligence and authority of those that know math and science, those that can learn anything from a book and get top grades. These people are generally the ones regarded as “smart” by society. They understand numbers and their intelligence can be measured by them- by scores on tests. What people don’t seem to realize is that even these people can lack in many aspects. Someone who does well in school may be terrible at socializing and reading peoples’ expressions, and may have no idea how to think in other ways. I thought that the only valuable intelligences, the ones I had to have, were mathematical and logical. I believed that the other intelligences didn’t really count. It took me years to recognize that this isn’t true. Joining different clubs and teams really helped me find out my strengths. I’m in many, but the most formative has been speech. Learning to use new skills has been an important part of my experience here. Making connections from kids’ tv shows and old poems to social inequality and human nature, and then conveying these connections to an audience are the two major elements of speech, and I’ve realized that that’s something I’m really naturally good at.

Through all of this, I’ve learned that I’m not entirely hopeless- I do have some strengths, namely intra-personal and what’s called existential intelligence. I think best in the big picture, and I have the ability to understand myself and my own place in the world. I like asking big questions that I can’t answer entirely. The fact that I ranked high on these two strengths make sense to me- thinking in this way comes easily.

Different intelligences manifest themselves in different people. It’s time to stop thinking that the label smart is only applicable to a select few. In the words of Albert Einstein, “Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish on its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.” Let’s treat more people like they’re geniuses.

"This I Believe: The Power of Running" by Lindsey

When I entered High School, I decided I wanted to participate in a fall sport, not so much for the athletic aspect of it, but for the team and people I would meet. I was switching school districts and didn’t know many people except for a select group of friends. Because Field hockey, Dance Team, and Volleyball did not interest me, I decided the Cross Country team would be the best fit. Running was okay and there were no tryouts, so being cut was not an option. I was not expecting much, as in years before I have never been very athletic. During my first season of Cross Country, I learned I really enjoyed the sport, especially running through the woods during practice. It was something about getting places on your own two feet. A car or a bike didn’t help, it was just your legs and determination. I did okay at my first season. I earned a varsity letter, but was not in the top seven or anything, but I was average and it was still better than I expected.

Then, in my first spring track season, it all changed. I remember my first race and how much I improved, surprising myself and my teammates. Back in the fall season, we had to do some timed miles, just to see what our paces were. I was never very good at them; my best time being around the seven minute mark. By a runner’s standard, this is practically walking. This was the first time I had run the 1600 in a race, so I was unsure of my pacing and how to run it. The 1600 is about a mile and four laps around the track. When going at a top speed, it can get pretty tiring. The mile is not a race a runner can sprint the entire time. Careful timing and speed is needed to get to the finish line in one piece.

In my particular race, there was a pack of girls running together, none of us quite sure what we were doing, like chickens without heads. I was just trying to stay in pace with them, hoping they had a better idea of how the race was going. My main concern was I would use up all my energy in the first lap and not have enough energy to get through the other three. About halfway through the race, my coach started yelling from the sidelines, “I know you all aren’t the same speed”. I took that as my motivation to pick up the pace. I ended up pulling away from the pack and dropping forty seconds from my time; getting me a new personal record of six minutes and twenty seconds. After the race, one of the top senior varsity runners saw my race and told me I would go to districts that year. At first, I didn’t believe her, but I worked hard and ended up with a district spot and dropping more time than I ever thought possible.

I believe people never know what they are capable of until they try. Before my race, I never knew I was capable of being a good athlete. Throughout my life, I hopped around from sport to sport, trying to get it right. I was fairly slow at swimming and could never seemed to kick the ball in soccer. I was so close to giving up on sports. That one race boosted my confidence to try new things in other aspects of my life. I have explored new interests, such as signing up to be a tutor at the writing center and participating in National Novel Writing Month. With my new found confidence, I have tried these amazing opportunities and plan to continue expanding my horizons.

"This I Believe: Planning for a Future" by William Shakespeare

Everything I do now is for the future. Most people say that we should live in the moment and not let it go to waste, but I think that you should live for the future. I believe in hard work and once you keep working hard; eventually you won’t have to later on. That’s why I find school so important, I work hard to keep my grades up because if I don’t I have this feeling that I won’t be successful. If I don’t do well in a class, then I’ll fail, and if I fail, I won’t be able to get into a good college and then find a nice paying job later on. That’s what scares me most; that I won’t find a job and won’t be able to support myself when I’m an adult. I put an enormous amount of stress on myself to get my school work done and make it perfect; I go through the breakdowns and mental blocks because I know one day that it’ll all be worth it.

I believe your future is made by your actions today. Whatever you’re doing in your life now, will be a part of your future someday. How you are as a person and what you decide to do with your life will determine how your future is planned out.

My dad was the first person in his family to go to college. After college, he found a job in the government and worked extremely hard to get to the point in his career that he’s at now. He’s moved around the country for different positions, taking on heavier tasks and getting promotions after his accomplishments. When my dad moved to Florida, he knew that he would have to be separated from his family, but he still did it in order to hopefully get a promotion for himself. My dad was a self-made man; he did things not only to benefit his family, but to benefit himself. He didn’t have to go to college; he could have stopped right after high school and found a job in his hometown of Memphis. But he didn’t, my dad was determined to make a future for himself. So, he kept working; if it was putting in extra hours or working hard on a case, he never gave up. And, because of his actions and choices that he made in the past he’s now able to wake up whenever he wants and go into work at whatever time he likes. He can leave early or he can stay, his world is in his hands. He, along with my mother, always tell me that I should try my best at everything and never give up; if there’s something I want in life, I should go for it.

My school ethic is a big part of my future. The way I am in school now will help me to become who I want to be tomorrow. I may not know what I want to be right now, but I know that working hard in school will lead me to what I want to do later on. I am determined to make my future how I want it to be.

"This I Believe: Taking a Shot at Success" by Danny

“One, two, three, four, five!” The ref counted aloud. I was on my back, counting the lights. I was struggling to regain my position. The ref gave the kid on top of me his back points. My opponent sunk his reverse half deeper, and turned both of my shoulders to the mat. The ref slammed his hand against the mat, and blew his whistle. My assailant rose up off of me, and returned to the center of the mat. The ref raised my opponent’s hand up high. I looked down, completely ashamed of myself. Even though I was just a freshman, with no experience in the sport, I was very disappointed. I had just experienced what, in my opinion was the worst feeling on this Earth. Wrestling for me became increasingly frustrating, and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I considered quitting the sport, and moving on. But I understood one thing: If I were to quit wrestling, I would surely never have to face the regret and disappointment associated with losing so thoroughly, but if I stuck with the sport, I might be granted the chance at achieving a greater glory, and possibly the greatest feeling on Earth: Having one’s hand raised over another’s in victory. This loss was particularly devastating to me, and afterwards, I embarked a blind and single minded journey towards becoming a more successful wrestler.

By my junior year, I was ready to compete on a higher level. I had gained the basic skills and strength I needed in the sport to be a varsity starter. My season got off to a bumpy start, and my coach explained something very important to me. He told me that I wasn’t used to my body, and although I was strong, I didn’t have the thorough technique necessary to fulfill my potential. He described my ability to wrestle as somewhat hollow. I was trying so hard to be strong enough that I had lost some of the technique which is so essential to winning.

I don’t wrestle because I am good, and I can tell you that I am most certainly not amazing at the sport. I could be defined as an average wrestler. I wouldn’t be able to compete at the division one or two levels in college; I might have a chance at being okay wrestling for a division three school. I wrestle because of the values that the sport has instilled in me. From my experiences on the mat, I have learned to never give up, no matter what. Wrestling has taught me not to fear adversity, but to embrace it. Many people, after facing devastating failure, make large and unilateral changes within themselves for fear of ever facing such a failure again. People can make over corrections, and lose sight not only of what is important to them, but also what is inside of them. Just as my coach explained that I was a hollow wrestler, I also became a hollow person. I was more concerned about winning matches and the more superficial aspects of life than I was about my family, my friends, or my own well-being. I was becoming a selfish person. An over correction such as the one I struggled to deal with can quickly overwhelm and grow into a negative characteristic, such as being selfish, which defines a person. Avoiding this can be relatively simple. It is our goals which define us, and if a goal is selfish or single-minded, then it will lead a person to become selfish and single-minded. I believe that sometimes, a person can lose a part of themselves in the process of over pursuing a single-minded goal or dream.

Write Here. Write Now.