We head off to college. As Liam and I are heading to college we are talking about what we want to do when we get older. And Liam tells me that he wants to travel the world and make adventures. And I tell Liam that I want to also travel the world and become a writer. Music starts playing and we start jamming out to the music.
A dark-haired, slim, Puerto Rican kid named Anthony Arroyo has always been my friend for the longest. Although I don 't I remember much I do remember that we met in second grade at Ramona Elementary School. Surprisingly we got along real smoothly and we soon discovered we had a lot of stuff in common. We had similar interest in video games, we both enjoyed drawing, we were both obsessed with these japanese digital virtual pets called a Tamagotchi (translation: Egg Baby).
A Ghostly Spark Introduction (reveal): Native American culture has always been an interest of mine. Since my beginning with the Boy Scouts of America on my path to Eagle Scout, I have come closer to the dense but often forgotten history of the First Nation people of America. Upon joining the Order of the Arrow, the BSA’s honor society centered around Native American virtues and beliefs, I have continued to take it upon myself to learn more about the long forgotten Native history. While I knew about the general struggles the Native Americans faced as “white man” invaded the unharnessed Western frontier, I had not learned about the specific catalyzing incidents that caused such conflict and suffered between these two cultures. While searching through topics like native music and combat, I knew I needed an event that sparked the rift between these two types of people, growing U.S. government and early
The Moving Diaries_Part One Day One This was the day I found out I was getting transferred from San Diego California to Houlton Main. Man, I was not looking forward to telling my wife that we are going to move almost three thousand miles away from where she grew up. As I sat there at my desk. My heart began to pound and I felt the palm of my hands begin to sweat.
My Special Object My dad said to me “let 's go to the store and find a gun.” So we went to Gander Mountain and Cabela 's and found one we ordered it and I said “ I can 't wait for it to come.” When it came it was long sleek barrel and had a nice fine wood grain stock with a silver trigger mechanism and a gold colored trigger. When I shoot it I think of hunting and trap shooting that 's why it 's mostly special to me.
I would like to think that everyone is their own hero fighting their own journey. We hear the term hero a lot, whether we are referring to the people who put their lives on the line for the sake of society, or the people we believe that are our own personal heros who have affected our lives. Before understanding Joseph Campbell’s theory on his concept the Hero’s Journey I would have never considered myself a hero.
A dagger screamed, slicing through the air - or should I say, lack thereof. Time froze and my eyes widened in realization of who the dagger was flying towards. It aimed directly at me. I watched in slow motion as the dagger began to curve in a new direction before identifying it 's new victim. I turned quickly and latched my small hand around his wrist.
Fragility at its Finest Bruises littered my body like flowers in the beginning of spring. At first only one or two buds popped through the soft ground, but as the season progresses you can see a flower every foot or so. I tried opening my eyes but the tenderness around them prevent me from opening them more than a slit. I hear crashes coming from downstairs and I force my breathing to remain normal.
I am the kind of person that likes to be challenged and is determined. Ever since I was a kid, I was eager to learn new things. Although I was always like this, my determination and desire to be challenged grew stronger. I taught myself how to play guitar and piano, and even though it’s still a working progress, that is how it is with everything. It was a challenge
While every single word in this personal statement is true, I would have been naive if I had asserted the following statement even a few years ago; maturity, experience, and deep-seated introspection allow me to say with confidence that I now fully understand and appreciate the significance of being given the opportunity to attend law school. As what should be every other applicant, I have faith in my ability to succeed throughout my education and legal career thereafter. What experiences, characteristics, and abilities demonstrate why I am a more desirable candidate as opposed to, for example, someone with a somewhat similar occupational background, grade point average, and score on the law school admission test? “I mean this lovingly, but I’ve never really worried about you… I always knew you were going to be all right.” These are a few of the words my mother said to me at some point during 2013, the year she passed away at the age of fifty very early in the morning December 26th.
Enhancing My Roots Being Mexican-American has been such a blessing to me. Growing up I would feel embarrassed to have brown skin and to my speak my first language, which is Spanish. I would feel jealous hearing the other kids speak English so well as I struggled more and was placed in English Language Development. I would detest to get pulled out of class and get asked trivial questions like “what is this?” when it was a simple book.