VERY Rough draft, and I would appreciate feedback
Posted: Wed Jul 18, 2012 9:03 pm
I just finished this (actually, I just started this. That's how rough this rough draft is). Critique away, I appreciate any feedback!
“President Crease, if you don’t mind, I have something to say.”
Up until this moment I had barely spoken a word at a Franklin Park Borough council meeting. I was roughly one third of the way through my term as the Junior Councilperson, an appointed position given to a local high school student as an introduction to the functions of government at the most local level. As a junior with interest in politics, I was eager and excited about the opportunity to get real, hands-on experience serving the people of my community. What I didn’t expect, however, was a fractured council whose meetings frequently devolved into shouting matches and whose members often displayed questionable motives and tactics. Though it was disconcerting to see even the slightest bit of power corrupting my neighbors, it was also exciting and made each day on the council colorful.
At this particular meeting, the council was voting to censure Ash Marwah. Mr. Marwah had sent out an email to various employees that disparaged the women on the council and made sexist comments about them. He refused to apologize for his behavior and was being verbally berated by other members of the council and citizens in the audience. Fearing that this would quickly turn into the usual unproductive shouting match, and realizing the importance of this moment, I decided to step up and finally let my voice be heard.
“President Crease, if you don’t mind, I have something to say.” All the eyes turned to me, shocked and confused. I continued, “The citizens of this fine community deserve better. They deserve a council that treats them with respect. They deserve a council that uses their time and taxpayer dollars to their fullest advantage. They deserve better than Mr. Marwah and his emails. They deserve an apology. So if Mr. Marwah isn’t going to apologize for this email, I will. It is sad that a grown man and elected member of this council lacks the maturity that the high school appointee has, but I’m willing to do what is necessary to get this council back on track on focused again on improving this community.”
My comments were met with a burst of applause from the audience and smiles from most of the council members and borough employees. I had officially put myself on the line, voiced my opinion, and entered the battle. I was no longer the silent teenager simply taking in what was going on around me; I had become another member of council who saw his responsibility to the community and chose not to shy away from it.
It was at this moment that I realized what a power my words had. As a lifelong bookworm, I was certainly aware of the power that words have had over me. However, hearing my voice bellow out my thoughts, and seeing the way that it affected and inspired people, I knew that I had a newfound responsibility to use these skills for the betterment of society. In the short term, that meant continuing to speak up during council meetings and point out when the council was failing to live up to the expectations of the citizens who elected them. I quickly garnered a reputation for being outspoken yet thoughtful, passionate but articulate. In the long run, though, I knew that I had the responsibility to take what I had learned and experienced as the Junior Councilperson and make a career out of it. When reflecting upon which career offered me the best opportunity to use my gift of words and public speaking to create a better world, a career in law stood out to me. The feeling I got when I stood up for what was right through my words and speech is a feeling I hope to experience throughout my career; it trumps any sort of financial draw to a career. I know that if I can wake up each morning knowing that I am fighting for a cause I believe in, and maximizing my skills in the process, I will be completely satisfied.
Above all, though, from that night I remember a certain member of the audience. Sitting in the front row, as always, was my grandfather. He was the first person I turned to when I finished delivering my apology on behalf of Mr. Marwah, and from him I received a priceless wink and thumbs up. Receiving his approval brought me greater joy than anything in this world. My grandparents grew up extremely poor, and through tremendous hard work and sacrifice created the opportunities that I have before me. While I can never hope to understand the full extent to which I am indebted to them, I recognize that I have a responsibility to make the most of everything they have given me. That is why I do not want a career to make money. I want a career where I can make a difference in the world, and shape it in the way that would make my grandparents proud. I know that they won’t always be by my side, ready to give me a thumbs up, but I plan on living my life as though they did, as though each of my actions and decisions served to make them proud by making the world a better place. I know that a career in law can do this, and give me the feeling I got when, as a timid yet determined high school student, I stood up for what was right.
“President Crease, if you don’t mind, I have something to say.”
Up until this moment I had barely spoken a word at a Franklin Park Borough council meeting. I was roughly one third of the way through my term as the Junior Councilperson, an appointed position given to a local high school student as an introduction to the functions of government at the most local level. As a junior with interest in politics, I was eager and excited about the opportunity to get real, hands-on experience serving the people of my community. What I didn’t expect, however, was a fractured council whose meetings frequently devolved into shouting matches and whose members often displayed questionable motives and tactics. Though it was disconcerting to see even the slightest bit of power corrupting my neighbors, it was also exciting and made each day on the council colorful.
At this particular meeting, the council was voting to censure Ash Marwah. Mr. Marwah had sent out an email to various employees that disparaged the women on the council and made sexist comments about them. He refused to apologize for his behavior and was being verbally berated by other members of the council and citizens in the audience. Fearing that this would quickly turn into the usual unproductive shouting match, and realizing the importance of this moment, I decided to step up and finally let my voice be heard.
“President Crease, if you don’t mind, I have something to say.” All the eyes turned to me, shocked and confused. I continued, “The citizens of this fine community deserve better. They deserve a council that treats them with respect. They deserve a council that uses their time and taxpayer dollars to their fullest advantage. They deserve better than Mr. Marwah and his emails. They deserve an apology. So if Mr. Marwah isn’t going to apologize for this email, I will. It is sad that a grown man and elected member of this council lacks the maturity that the high school appointee has, but I’m willing to do what is necessary to get this council back on track on focused again on improving this community.”
My comments were met with a burst of applause from the audience and smiles from most of the council members and borough employees. I had officially put myself on the line, voiced my opinion, and entered the battle. I was no longer the silent teenager simply taking in what was going on around me; I had become another member of council who saw his responsibility to the community and chose not to shy away from it.
It was at this moment that I realized what a power my words had. As a lifelong bookworm, I was certainly aware of the power that words have had over me. However, hearing my voice bellow out my thoughts, and seeing the way that it affected and inspired people, I knew that I had a newfound responsibility to use these skills for the betterment of society. In the short term, that meant continuing to speak up during council meetings and point out when the council was failing to live up to the expectations of the citizens who elected them. I quickly garnered a reputation for being outspoken yet thoughtful, passionate but articulate. In the long run, though, I knew that I had the responsibility to take what I had learned and experienced as the Junior Councilperson and make a career out of it. When reflecting upon which career offered me the best opportunity to use my gift of words and public speaking to create a better world, a career in law stood out to me. The feeling I got when I stood up for what was right through my words and speech is a feeling I hope to experience throughout my career; it trumps any sort of financial draw to a career. I know that if I can wake up each morning knowing that I am fighting for a cause I believe in, and maximizing my skills in the process, I will be completely satisfied.
Above all, though, from that night I remember a certain member of the audience. Sitting in the front row, as always, was my grandfather. He was the first person I turned to when I finished delivering my apology on behalf of Mr. Marwah, and from him I received a priceless wink and thumbs up. Receiving his approval brought me greater joy than anything in this world. My grandparents grew up extremely poor, and through tremendous hard work and sacrifice created the opportunities that I have before me. While I can never hope to understand the full extent to which I am indebted to them, I recognize that I have a responsibility to make the most of everything they have given me. That is why I do not want a career to make money. I want a career where I can make a difference in the world, and shape it in the way that would make my grandparents proud. I know that they won’t always be by my side, ready to give me a thumbs up, but I plan on living my life as though they did, as though each of my actions and decisions served to make them proud by making the world a better place. I know that a career in law can do this, and give me the feeling I got when, as a timid yet determined high school student, I stood up for what was right.