First PS Try, I would love feedback
Posted: Fri Sep 20, 2013 11:26 pm
Here it is:
I remember the shipwreck, the overgrown island, and the fear that gripped me when I first learned that the island was teeming with cannibals. But my clearest memory was the moment when I escaped; when my tiny six year old hand turned the final page in that dusty copy of Robinson Crusoe and triumphantly slammed the book shut. For four days I had fought through a maelstrom of words and ideas that my six years of life had left me woefully unequipped to handle, and yet I had survived. Those four days on an island changed me, and my educational life would never be the same.
From the very beginning, my education was unorthodox. My mother – a mentally strong but physically frail, soft-spoken English teacher with a passion for social activism -and my father – a boisterous, athletic Math teacher and Renaissance man – chose to home-school me. They opted not to fill my early life with worksheets and required reading, but instead taught me to seek out knowledge in everyday life and take pride in my own education. Ever week, when I helped ladle out soup at the homeless shelter my mother ran, I learned about poverty. When I first joined the march down MLK Drive in San Antonio with thousands of other people, I learned about civil rights. Spending two weeks living in a commune and bathing in a river taught me about sustainable living and energy conservation. The world was my classroom, and I was always looking for new chances to learn from it.
When I first saw Robinson Crusoe on the bookshelf in the family living room, the prospect of reading my first “grown-up book” was too enticing to pass up. It was intimidating to dive into a book that was evidently not meant for someone my age, but my father had taught me to be okay with being a beginner. After all, everyone is bad when they first start out learning a new skill. When I finished the book four days later, that lesson was affirmed; when you set your mind to learning something, all it takes is effort to turn inability into ability.
That lesson has guided my life at every turn. When I first decided I wanted to play golf, I sat on the driving range for four hours until my fingers were blistered and the ball finally arched into the air when I swung at it. When I entered organized schooling at the age of 14, I quickly learned social interactions by spending the first day introducing myself to everyone I could find. When I decided I wanted to learn how to breakdance, I spent the rest of the day wriggling on the floor and attempting to balance on my hands. Not all of these efforts were met with shining success, but I did find myself one day better at those activities than someone who decided not to try.
It’s been sixteen years since I was that little boy who picked up Robinson Crusoe and began his quest to learn how to read like a grown-up. I’m now a two-handicap golfer, a competent dancer, and a confident socializer. I know how to make sushi, build a website, and record my own music. I’ve started school organizations, published editorials in my college newspaper, and helped choreograph and perform a dance for charity in front of 600 of my fellow students. I’ve tried to live with the same sense of boldness and adventure that my six year old self did when he chose to overcome that 300 page book.
So when I decided that I may have an interest in law, I dove right into the challenge. I began studying the LSAT, taking classes that related to law, joining my college’s mock trial team, and interning with a lawyer to see if law was right for me. What I discovered was a profession that merged introverted thought with extroverted advocacy. That combined my father’s analytical skills with my mother’s writing. That demanded social responsibility and the ability to think critically and independently. That needed people who could learn and grow and change along with it. What I found was a profession that sounded exactly like the person I had become. With areas of law as varied as my own interests, I remain confident that I can find my niche.
I know that law school will be difficult. There will be moments when I may feel trapped by a maelstrom of words and ideas that I feel ill-equipped to handle. There will be moments when I feel like I cannot make it through. But it has been sixteen years since the first time I felt that way about a challenge, and I have been developing my ability to meet new challenges and struggles ever since then. At the age of six I made it past a shipwreck, an overgrown forest, cannibals, and 300 dusty pages. After that, how could law school stand a chance against me?
I remember the shipwreck, the overgrown island, and the fear that gripped me when I first learned that the island was teeming with cannibals. But my clearest memory was the moment when I escaped; when my tiny six year old hand turned the final page in that dusty copy of Robinson Crusoe and triumphantly slammed the book shut. For four days I had fought through a maelstrom of words and ideas that my six years of life had left me woefully unequipped to handle, and yet I had survived. Those four days on an island changed me, and my educational life would never be the same.
From the very beginning, my education was unorthodox. My mother – a mentally strong but physically frail, soft-spoken English teacher with a passion for social activism -and my father – a boisterous, athletic Math teacher and Renaissance man – chose to home-school me. They opted not to fill my early life with worksheets and required reading, but instead taught me to seek out knowledge in everyday life and take pride in my own education. Ever week, when I helped ladle out soup at the homeless shelter my mother ran, I learned about poverty. When I first joined the march down MLK Drive in San Antonio with thousands of other people, I learned about civil rights. Spending two weeks living in a commune and bathing in a river taught me about sustainable living and energy conservation. The world was my classroom, and I was always looking for new chances to learn from it.
When I first saw Robinson Crusoe on the bookshelf in the family living room, the prospect of reading my first “grown-up book” was too enticing to pass up. It was intimidating to dive into a book that was evidently not meant for someone my age, but my father had taught me to be okay with being a beginner. After all, everyone is bad when they first start out learning a new skill. When I finished the book four days later, that lesson was affirmed; when you set your mind to learning something, all it takes is effort to turn inability into ability.
That lesson has guided my life at every turn. When I first decided I wanted to play golf, I sat on the driving range for four hours until my fingers were blistered and the ball finally arched into the air when I swung at it. When I entered organized schooling at the age of 14, I quickly learned social interactions by spending the first day introducing myself to everyone I could find. When I decided I wanted to learn how to breakdance, I spent the rest of the day wriggling on the floor and attempting to balance on my hands. Not all of these efforts were met with shining success, but I did find myself one day better at those activities than someone who decided not to try.
It’s been sixteen years since I was that little boy who picked up Robinson Crusoe and began his quest to learn how to read like a grown-up. I’m now a two-handicap golfer, a competent dancer, and a confident socializer. I know how to make sushi, build a website, and record my own music. I’ve started school organizations, published editorials in my college newspaper, and helped choreograph and perform a dance for charity in front of 600 of my fellow students. I’ve tried to live with the same sense of boldness and adventure that my six year old self did when he chose to overcome that 300 page book.
So when I decided that I may have an interest in law, I dove right into the challenge. I began studying the LSAT, taking classes that related to law, joining my college’s mock trial team, and interning with a lawyer to see if law was right for me. What I discovered was a profession that merged introverted thought with extroverted advocacy. That combined my father’s analytical skills with my mother’s writing. That demanded social responsibility and the ability to think critically and independently. That needed people who could learn and grow and change along with it. What I found was a profession that sounded exactly like the person I had become. With areas of law as varied as my own interests, I remain confident that I can find my niche.
I know that law school will be difficult. There will be moments when I may feel trapped by a maelstrom of words and ideas that I feel ill-equipped to handle. There will be moments when I feel like I cannot make it through. But it has been sixteen years since the first time I felt that way about a challenge, and I have been developing my ability to meet new challenges and struggles ever since then. At the age of six I made it past a shipwreck, an overgrown forest, cannibals, and 300 dusty pages. After that, how could law school stand a chance against me?
