<p>I am my truest and purest self, a mere child embarking on the lifes journey. So, how can it be that my mother, my main source of comfort, can possibly be dying? Stage 4 Metastases Melanoma Cancer: the doctor says is the grim diagnosis, the definite fate that we have no say in repealing. It was, in that instantaneous moment, that I came to realize the true capacity of life’s unfairness. Destiny can be a cruel predator, preying on unsuspecting victims and demolishing lives as brutally as a wrecking ball could destroy a sand castle. He is ruthless, I learned, as my own life was atrociously torn to pieces by his cold hands the day I heard of my mother’s, and consequently my own, impending fate.
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Freshman year is a time to explore, to choose new paths and unearth new goals. It is the beginning of a fresh journey to find oneself. For me, though, it was the beginning of a ceaseless decline. I watched as my mother, one of the most vigorous and secure people I knew, erode underneath the emotional and physical torment of Melanoma. It is impossible for me to simply describe in words what it is like to watch your own mother, who has served as your strongest figure in times of tribulation, slowly and agonizingly lose her hair. Finding it on the floor and hiding it to clumsily attempt to preserve her dignity became a ritual, as did sleepless nights. I sank into a depression, a morosely disconsolate state where nothing mattered. I was a critic of life, seething at the cruel hand that I was dealt, and in short, I gave up on everything. As my mother’s sadistic disease progressed, I became her caretaker. I had to cook meals, clean the house, and wash clothes. My GPA sank to a deplorable 2.0, as I couldn’t focus in school, nor did I see any point in trying to improve my seemingly hopeless circumstances. There were times when I had to be excused by the teacher to leave class, as I would, involuntarily, be unable to function. The strife was seemingly endless, as I was consistently haunted by my grim reality. Looking back now, I should have taken time off, as it would have greatly helped my well-being and GPA. However, I refused to strain my parents lives any further and could not bear to spend even more time watching my mothers disease consume her torturously. Everything was going to fail regardless of my clumsy attempts at self-preservation, so why bother?
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The reality hit me like a violent duress, as if fine china had been smashed in my face and splintered beneath my skin. She won’t make it through tonight, the doctor said. I watched in dejection and disbelief as my mother laid on her eminent deathbed, unable to walk, verbally respond, or even move. The heaving breaths accentuated by the intravenous machine carved through me as I literally watched my mom die right in front of me.
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My sophomore year was one of soulless being and half living. I felt sub-human, emptied of all substance and drained of happiness, and so, I made the same mistakes as freshman year, letting my obstacles overcome me, as opposed to overcoming them. My father’s debilitating health gradually followed my mother’s death, as he became as depressed as I was, and found it inconceivable to cope with such a harsh reality. He dropped down to 110 pounds and acquired sugar shock, eventually becoming unable to adequately function, both physically and emotionally. Because of this, I had no grace period after my mothers death, as I immediately had to take on the responsibility of my father’s dilapidating health. At the beginning of my sophomore year, he was frequently falling due to his physical inadequacy. I, in turn, had to then take on the roles of my mother and father. I initiated in full responsibility for grocery shopping, housekeeping, cleaning laundry, caretaking for yet another crippling parent, and grieving for my mother, all the while balancing school and clumsily attempting to pretend I was normal.
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Destiny, in all its imminent capacity, is simply set in pencil. Halfway through my sophomore year, I learned this, as well as the clamorous importance of ones initiative to control the success of their life. I spent a substantial chunk of my high school life taking initiative for my parents lives, and I realized I needed to start being responsible for my own. I resolved to focus on my academics, initiate myself in community service, and give faith another chance. I found comfort in helping others, and by doing so, I helped myself. My GPA rose from a 2.0 to a 2.654, as I began to heal into normalcy, a luxury I was craving to finally encompass. Through these experiences, I learned to triumph over obstacles, and excel myself instead of surrendering to my adversities. In consequence, I finally came to cope with my mothers death and learned how to responsibly balance my obligations at home with my obligations to excel in school. From devotedly studying daily to volunteering to build a school for the impoverished nation of Malawi, I found help in positively improving my life through helping others.
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In short, junior year I got back on my feet and focused on my future. I volunteered at the Composition Docent Mentorship Program to help advance the writing and literacy skills of middle school aged children, joined the Red Cross and Pink Ribbon Club, became a certified member of AmeriCorps, and initiated myself in my studies. My GPA rose to a 3.259. Now, I put full dedication into my academics, community service, and life goals. Once a callous shell deprived of substance and motivation, I am now an ambitious student, heading towards my future with full conviction. I have a 3.77 GPA and am actively involved in community service. Success is attainable, but not by magic. It is only truly possible for those who are willing to put their entirety into their hopes, goals, and dreams. Success is the function of thousands of miles of bleak straight road and keeping faith that there is some type of light at the end. This, I have learned, is essential in overcoming lifes obstacles.
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And so, dear reader, I am no longer a child. I was unable to maintain my simplest and purest form, as the fragile innocence of my childhood has been taken. I am like an old book, torn and weathered from time, permanently carved from experience’s brutal savagery. But I wear these scars proudly, as they encompass a story of valor, change, and self-created miracles. I understand that I am a chance applicant. Nevertheless, I hope that as you read my transcript, you can see beyond the numbers and letters inscribed on the paper. For it is more than merely ink stamped on stationary, and I am more than the student with only a 2.68 GPA. Let me be reckless, even perhaps elitist, to propose that I know I will excel at Uconn. I am fully aware that my cumulative GPA is under what you typically look for in applicants, but my current GPA is now exceeds it. I unquestionably intend to keep improving this, and I can state with full confidence that I will continue to significantly improve in my academic studies. I implore you to recognize my abilities to succeed and my interminable drive to triumph, as I will carry this mindset to help me be successful through college. I am fully confident that I will continue to successfully increase my GPA and grow in my academics. And so, if accepted, I am thoroughly certain that I will continue this positive trend and serve as a beneficial asset to the University of Connecticut. I have come to thrive in challenges and grow from every obstacle that I have faced, and so I beseech you to give me the opportunity to prove this by becoming a positive addition to your school.</p>