getting an early start on next cycle, help please!
Posted: Wed Mar 26, 2014 8:49 am
This is a 1st draft, any constructive criticism is appreciated!
On the shores of a small lake in New Hampshire, there is a house with a door that opens to nowhere. My Dzadziu was a man of many talents. In addition to raising nine children, he found time to receive a law degree, as well as an MBA from Wharton Business School. In 1959 he traded in the bulk of his nest egg for five acres of lakefront property. With only the occasional help of his children, Dzadziu spent the better part of five summers single-handedly building a three-story house in the wilderness.
As long as I can remember, every summer my family spent a few weeks up at Highland Lake soaking in the Walden-esque atmosphere, stark in contrast to the Chicago hustle and bustle. The house itself is elegant in its simplicity; a quiet collection of rooms purposed for sleeping, cooking, and eating. However, if there is one loud feature to our cozy cottage, it exists in the second floor living room. Next to the fireplace there is a doorway one cannot walk through,, or rather should not walk through, because through the doorway is nothing but a calming view of the magnificent forest and a long trip to the emergency room.
I grew up wondering why my no-nonsense grandfather would build such a purposeless door. It wasn’t until the summer before my freshman year of college that I had the opportunity to ask him. Expecting something to the effect of ‘mind your own business,’ I instead received a nugget of wisdom I haven’t been able to shake to this day. He said, “To remind my family that being comfortable is never enough to be fulfilled.”
Dzadziu’s words struck a chord in me. During my freshman year at Wisconsin-Madison, time that would have likely been spent playing video games or watching TV instead was spent raising money for a Hanson’s Disease (leprosy) colony in Ecuador. Arriving for a summer visit at Damien House in Guayaquil, I delivered $4775 that went directly to the care of the patients. I believe the money and my week of labor there made some difference in the lives of those who have little.
A year later, I left my friends behind and made the transition to the University of Illinois. In my time there I was honored with admission to Pi Sigma Alpha: the National Political Science Honorary Society, as well as the University of Illinois Pre-law Honor Society, both of which I served in actively. However my proudest moment came in my “Politics of the European Union” class, a subject I previously knew nothing about. Throughout the semester it became clear that I was one of the elite critical thinkers in the class. When Professor Kourtikakis went out of his way to recognize my paper on vertical and horizontal integration as the best in the class, I knew any future career that did not include crafting reasoned arguments would be inadequate.
For the past 15 months I have been residing in Bangkok, Thailand. After graduation I was offered a position as an English teacher and jumped at the opportunity to live abroad. I teach five classes a day, each consisting of approximately 20 children. The duty to instruct 500 students a week is humbling and empowering. Their passion to learn has moved me to organize and teach an extra class for adults on Saturdays at a local church. At first, only a few members of their congregation attended. Fast-forward to eight months later, I have enough students to fill up three classrooms. To compensate I have recruited both English speaking and Thai co-workers to join the effort. Demand is such that I am actively searching for more volunteers.
While I enjoy being a teacher, I long for the ability to employ the critical reading, argument analysis, persuasion, and research skills I cultivated as an undergraduate student. My goal is to combine my two passions and pursue a career as a professor of law. I am not naïve, I am aware of the difficult path that lies before me. But I also know why my Dzadziu built that door, and I am not one to settle for comfort.
On the shores of a small lake in New Hampshire, there is a house with a door that opens to nowhere. My Dzadziu was a man of many talents. In addition to raising nine children, he found time to receive a law degree, as well as an MBA from Wharton Business School. In 1959 he traded in the bulk of his nest egg for five acres of lakefront property. With only the occasional help of his children, Dzadziu spent the better part of five summers single-handedly building a three-story house in the wilderness.
As long as I can remember, every summer my family spent a few weeks up at Highland Lake soaking in the Walden-esque atmosphere, stark in contrast to the Chicago hustle and bustle. The house itself is elegant in its simplicity; a quiet collection of rooms purposed for sleeping, cooking, and eating. However, if there is one loud feature to our cozy cottage, it exists in the second floor living room. Next to the fireplace there is a doorway one cannot walk through,, or rather should not walk through, because through the doorway is nothing but a calming view of the magnificent forest and a long trip to the emergency room.
I grew up wondering why my no-nonsense grandfather would build such a purposeless door. It wasn’t until the summer before my freshman year of college that I had the opportunity to ask him. Expecting something to the effect of ‘mind your own business,’ I instead received a nugget of wisdom I haven’t been able to shake to this day. He said, “To remind my family that being comfortable is never enough to be fulfilled.”
Dzadziu’s words struck a chord in me. During my freshman year at Wisconsin-Madison, time that would have likely been spent playing video games or watching TV instead was spent raising money for a Hanson’s Disease (leprosy) colony in Ecuador. Arriving for a summer visit at Damien House in Guayaquil, I delivered $4775 that went directly to the care of the patients. I believe the money and my week of labor there made some difference in the lives of those who have little.
A year later, I left my friends behind and made the transition to the University of Illinois. In my time there I was honored with admission to Pi Sigma Alpha: the National Political Science Honorary Society, as well as the University of Illinois Pre-law Honor Society, both of which I served in actively. However my proudest moment came in my “Politics of the European Union” class, a subject I previously knew nothing about. Throughout the semester it became clear that I was one of the elite critical thinkers in the class. When Professor Kourtikakis went out of his way to recognize my paper on vertical and horizontal integration as the best in the class, I knew any future career that did not include crafting reasoned arguments would be inadequate.
For the past 15 months I have been residing in Bangkok, Thailand. After graduation I was offered a position as an English teacher and jumped at the opportunity to live abroad. I teach five classes a day, each consisting of approximately 20 children. The duty to instruct 500 students a week is humbling and empowering. Their passion to learn has moved me to organize and teach an extra class for adults on Saturdays at a local church. At first, only a few members of their congregation attended. Fast-forward to eight months later, I have enough students to fill up three classrooms. To compensate I have recruited both English speaking and Thai co-workers to join the effort. Demand is such that I am actively searching for more volunteers.
While I enjoy being a teacher, I long for the ability to employ the critical reading, argument analysis, persuasion, and research skills I cultivated as an undergraduate student. My goal is to combine my two passions and pursue a career as a professor of law. I am not naïve, I am aware of the difficult path that lies before me. But I also know why my Dzadziu built that door, and I am not one to settle for comfort.