Karolina Ferrer
The things I have learned…
Of all the events I take part of go , my favorite are my neighborhood
Block parties which are held every summer. There is
free food, rides, music, and games for the whole community to enjoy. As part of me giving back to the community, I do face
painting for children of all ages and sometimes for those young at heart people who show up as well . All the little kids eagerly
wait on line to have flowers, anchors, lions, butterflies, Spiderman, puppies, or sports teams to be decorated on their tiny faces,
arms, and hands.
One particular occasion that has affected my perception on how I view volunteering opportunities is the opportunity to paint a
mentally disabled girl on a wheel chair. This little girl could not voice what she felt and simply wriggled, but when I looked into
her brown almond shaped eyes I saw everything she wanted to tell me. I could see the happiness and thankfulness inside her shine
out like a light. No words needed to be spoken between us because we were able to communicate through simple body
expressions. Of all the children I had painted on that day, none touched me more than that frail little child. The expressions of her
eyes have remained imprinted in my memory ever since that day. She reminded me of the difference a small deed can make in the
life of an individual. That happiness reminded me of the reason I chose to volunteer for face painting. To some, it may not seem
so significant to decorate people with paint; however making someone else happy makes me happy.
Reaching my goals and even surpassing them also create a feeling of euphoria and pride. For example, before I took chemistry
class, several teachers forewarned me of the copious homework and difficult tests we would receive. They told us not to be
alarmed if we were usually A students, but received a C in this class. I took this advise as a challenge; and not only completed
my homework but ascertained that I had done it correctly. For the first test, I created chapter summaries, I studied them, and
received an 86. I was not too happy with the grade since I was determined to score higher, and so with greater effort and
commitment, I received a 94 on the following exam. I was determined, and my appetite for a perfect scored had just started. I
wanted a perfect score, which I finally attained on the fourth test after much hard work and deliverance. Afterwards I strove to
get hundreds on every test and if possible higher. I challenged myself to persevere and maintain my average. In the end I received
the A+ I had worked hard for and I was elated. It is in that instant that I realized my potential was far greater than I had imagined.
During my teenage years I have gone through a journey of self-discovery defined by memorable moments. Whether it’s in church,
school, or even on a trip there have been specific instances in my life which have made me realize who I am. Those almond
shaped eyes remind me of the joy I get when helping others; I now know that is a quality I value in others, as well as myself.
Working hard to reach a goal brings great satisfaction, especially when I surpass my own expectations. I learned that through
determination, diligence, and perseverance I can accomplish anything. I know I am not only a visionary, but also one who can lay
the foundations to achieve these dreams. Each action to make others, your surroundings, or yourself better give fruits in the
future. This is the reason I strongly believe in the words of William James who once said, “Act as if what you do makes a
difference”. I strongly feel it does.
Alice Fig
2/9/1990
The B School
A fortune teller once told my family that the large oak tree in front of our house was bad luck. As a result, we never used the front entrance; the
only route in and out of the house was around the driveway through the back. Because the kitchen was directly connected to the back door, it
became a gathering place for my family. Every day after school, I sat at the kitchen table doing my homework as the radiator whistled softly in
the background. When I finished, I stuck around and helped my mother and grandmother clean the green beans for dinner. My dad wandered in
from time to time to play with the dogs or steal tidbits of food from the wok. On the weekends, Hilma came home from NYU. My mother
would spend all of Saturday cooking plate after plate of our childhood favorites like fried radish balls or scrambled eggs and tomatoes. I would
pull out the table, lay out an extra bowl and set of chopsticks, and mop the kitchen floor until it was squeaky clean. When it was finally time to
eat, Hannah and I would always dig into the same dish first. We ate for hours and hours on end, catching up on Hannah’s life, discussing my
new English teacher at school, or laughing at our dogs’ silly antics. The kitchen was noisy and warm; delicious and safe.
On December 26th, 2004, the tsunami struck. Hilma, who had worked in invest banking after college, had finally decided to take a break and
vacation with friends at Phi Phi island. It was the first Christmas she had spent away from home, and the last time I ever saw her. After it
became clear that all of Thailand was in complete chaos, my parents flew out to find Hilma and bring her home. I never believed that she
wouldn’t come back until I got a phone call from my father. “We found her, Alice. She’s coming home with us.” For a wild second, my heart
rate sped up. One long pause later, I dared to ask, “Is she alive?” The only response was the sound of my mother’s sobs in the background.
After Hilma’s death in my freshman year, we moved away from the familiar kitchen and house in Queens. She was everywhere and yet
nowhere. Our only thought was to get away, even though we could see the elephant taking form with each retreating step. Now, I live on the
sixth floor in a tall apartment building of grey bricks where no tree blocks the entrance. The apartment is significantly smaller than our old
house was, but my parents converted part of the dining room into a separate room for me. It was strange that this space was big enough for us.
When we had initially visited, I had wanted to protest, No! Where would Hilma stay when she visited? Where would my grandmother sleep?
But in the end, the need for closure overcame all other consideration. We bought the apartment. Though it is small, there are times when it also
feels too big, and I feel a little lost. Nothing seems to be in the right place.
When my parents and I get home from work or school, we simply take the path to our respective rooms. Dinner remains the time where we all
come together from our corners of the apartment. The silence of living with only two other people is sometimes still too loud, and I don’t know
what to say as we eat. But gradually, the conversation between my parents and I has also changed. “How is work,” I’ll ask, and my parents will
share an anecdote that they might not have thought to disclose to their youngest daughter before. We discuss what groceries to buy next week,
what Pat Sajak wore on tonight’s Wheel of Fortune, how I should perhaps consider a career as a contestant on the show because I always knew
the answer (but we’re joking, they would always quickly add). Though some part of me will always long for the huge Christmas tree that we
erected every winter in our house in Queens, I do not miss it too much. Recently, we began to buy furnishings for our new apartment: trinkets to
put on the table, a new painting to hang by the entrance, a rug for the bathroom. Slowly, we are making this place our home, not in the same
way that our house in Queens had been, but home all the same.
Though we left many things behind when we moved, our elephants followed us from Queens to our current living room. After expecting them
to leave one day, I’ve come to realize that sometimes elephants are there because they need our attention and care. My elephant follows me
wherever I go, and I know that it is mine for the rest of my life. At first, having it trail behind me was uncomfortable and unnerving. The poor
thing startled easily and followed me everywhere: to school, the dinner table, my bed. But with some patience and training, I have taught it to
become braver and more independent. I make an effort to talk to it at night as I lay in bed waiting to fall asleep; one day, I will even be able to
introduce my elephant to my parents. Right now, perhaps it only trails a block or so behind me, but that is an extra block where I have the
freedom to breathe and cartwheel without worry.
Gleonore RamildeGleonore Ramilde
S.S No.
School Name
As an immigrant in America, I have had to strive for everything, even a quality education. My mother and I realized the
inadequacies of the public school system early on; my kindergarten teacher used to ridicule my English and called me stupid
often. When I told my mother this, she immediately marched over to the school and, speaking the little English that she had
picked up in a few months’ time, demanded that the teacher be fired; She was successful. Later on in life, when I felt that I
was not being challenged by the public school system, my mother motivated me to search for a way into the private school
system. I found a venue into the world of higher learning in 5th grade through P Program: an intensive rigorous 14-month
preparatory program spanning two summers and Wednesdays and Saturdays during the academic year. Over 3,500 brilliant
students of color vie to get into P Program. Only about 150 are selected. As if the selection process is not stress-inducing
enough, about 50 kids a year drop out because they can’t handle the competitive atmosphere. My mother saw P as my
“vehicle for social change”, as P so aptly describes itself. I made it through by stunting my growth by staying up till the wee
hours of the night on massive amounts of caffeine.
My mother has set out one major goal for me in life: to achieve the American Dream. My mother is a strong believer in the
idea of America as the land of opportunity and of going from rags to riches. She wants to live vicariously through me and
experience the things she never had, such as a first-rate college education and success in life.
I owe my mother for instilling in me the importance of education. I strongly believe the words of the great Horace Mann that,
“Education…is the great equalizer of the conditions of men, the balance-wheel of the social machinery.” As a child, I read in
the playground while my friends played. They would try to persuade me to join them, but I preferred to read instead. I loved
to read so much that I read 400 page books in a day. However, I did not read fantasy books but rather books about utopian
societies such as Lois Lowry’s The Giver and about society’s flaws such as Richard Wright’s autobiography Black Boy.
These books fueled me to want to impact society.
In the future, I hope to overcome cultural boundaries and to understand the different cultures of the world. I want to learn
many languages so that I can cross cultural barriers. I want to take advantage of the education I will get in college to educate
the people of the world so that they can rise above their circumstances, as I have throughout my life and will continue to do
so with the power of education.