I Want to Go to Emory

The lower class neighborhood that I was raised in was a breeding ground for kids that weren’t taught to esteem education as I did. I recall being in elementary classrooms with kids that only wanted to disrupt – but I managed to fight my way through exiting with the highest ITBS (Iowa Test of Basic Skills) score of my graduating class. In middle school, I opened my eyes to the wonders of helping people. I watched my father struggle to get through the day with a severe back injury, and watched him get better from surgery the next. Doctors really amazed me, and I knew I wanted to become one.

            Many people doubted my ability to get that far because of my inner-city public education and financial problems- and they made sure they verbalized their opinions. They even went as far as suggesting that I choose another career- but I chose to steadily move forward and follow my dream. Little did I know that people doubting me would be the least of my worries. I entered high school with college on my mind and all of my problems behind me. Just as I thought I was clear of the obstacles, my mom and dad started having problems. I was doing fine at first- but I could see my grades slipping and study habits fading after my parents separated the second semester of my first year. My dad was far away and my mom was constantly working. I barely had a way to school on most days, so I moved with my grandmother to be closer to my school. I meditated on my walk to school everyday and asked God to help me press forward and improve my grades. Slowly my grades improved, and eventually my parents got back together. I was very happy and content with my educational path at this point.

             Eventually, my parents’ problems returned. This time I was caught in the crossfire. When my parents separated, I was discouraged and I did not know what to do. My grades were slipping and I struggled to find stability. I started to lose close friends from middle school that I kept in touch with to drugs, murder, suicide, and imprisonment. My social skills headed downhill. I tried not to make friends for fear of losing another. By my junior year, I realized that I had no control over other people’s actions and being anti-social would not solve anything. I decided to preserver and indulge in my education. At this point, I knew that education was my outlet and I absolutely had to continue after high school.