<p>I sent out my essays to UT-Dallas and Texas A&M on Sunday. When I got my reply email from apptex.org, they said that it would take two business days for them to get sent to the schools. They still have not reached either school yet. I am becoming very ****ed off.</p>
<p>BTW, while you're reading this rant, would you mind giving me your opinion on my essays?</p>
<p>Topic A:</p>
<p>Since the dawn of man, there have been many outlets for man to express his
deepest thoughts, innermost impulses, his most basic wants. Whether it be
through painting, singing, or writing, man has always found a way to convey the
true form of his spirit. In my case, I had football. The gridiron was the one
place where I could release my inhibitions and be the pure, real person that
was hidden underneath immense self-control. Since the first day I strapped on a
helmet, football has been the "guiding light" and melting pot for all of my
emotions and faces.</p>
<p>Football taught me more than how to cut block, tackle, and finish a mile in
less than 6 minutes. It taught me to conquer my fears and release my passion
into something that I truly love doing. Whenever I stepped onto the field, I
planned to succeed. I planned to perform at such a degree that I turned
doubters of God into believers. My dad taught me at a very early age that
nothing in this life is free, and that only the hardest working S.O.B. would
reap the benefits of success. I pardoned his French, then I carried that
philosophy with me for the rest of my life. Unfortunately, for my mom's sake,
there was no other activity that I could (or would) do besides football. She
would always tell me stories about how my great-grandpa, Papani, wasn't able to
walk in his later days because of several knee injuries received in football. I
appreciated the concern, but then I asked her how Papani would feel about her
holding me back from playing the greatest game in the world. She paused,
smiled, gave a big sigh, and then signed the release form. I thank her everyday
for taking that risk on me. Soon, my mom caught on to my fascination with
football, and developed her own "inner-Lombardi". I thought I was being coached
by five coaches: my coach, my dad, and my mom (being the last three, due to her
acquired passion for football).</p>
<p>I don't truly believe that the football experience, beginning as early as nine
years old, can be described to people unfamiliar with brutal, unrelenting
truth. Football is a sport in which your very soul is tested. Football is a
sport in which you are required to make yourself vulnerable, for the betterment
of the team and yourself. Through careful calculations, I have determined that
I have spent 1,572 hours of my life in the realm of football. For a naturally
"rotund" person, that amount of time was brutal, yet at the same time giving.
The countless push-ups and miles that were ran in that timespan of 1,572 hours
has quite an effect on people of my genetic makeup. My religion went from being
wrapped in a cellophane bag to a large plastic tub, found at my local GNC
Store. But even with all the lactic acid build-up in my body, I can only be
grateful to the coaches that put up with me for two or more years. They had
given me an opportunity that would renew itself with every challenge that I
would face, everyday, for the rest of my life.</p>
<p>After six years of football, I look back and see nothing but the gift it has
given me, a "gift that keeps on giving", if you will. It has given me the drive
necessary to compete in this world, a drive which I'm afraid has lost its
luster in the eyes of many. I can only hope that the good people at Texas A&M
University are willing to accept nothing but my utmost loyalty, hard work,
and most importantly, drive. If so, I will undoubtedly do my best to uphold its
traditions of greatness and integrity.</p>
<p>Topic B:</p>
<p>There are many instances in life where we are able to learn from people of
different origins, statuses, races, etc. It is at these points in life where we
must cherish our own personal identity, yet at the same time embrace the
foreigner, and combine the best of his attributes with yours, to make the best
composite personality possible. Sadly, most people, when in the presence of
"outsiders", choose to shun and reject, instead of accepting and assisting in
the assimilation of the stranger. Through these people, who have learned and
lived differently in every way possible, we can learn more about ourselves, as
we help them learn more about themselves as well. This opportunity of learning
and sharing should never be surpassed, but savored and enjoyed once they come
and missed once they are gone.</p>
<p>Fortunately, I have been blessed to have been able to study and learn next to a
foreign-exchange student from Cuba, a location with which so much turmoil, can
only breed the strongest of wills and hearts. My good friend Carlos moved to
Texas from Cuba in 2003, and since then, my life has dramatically changed.
Coming from extreme poverty, he has had to grow up in many ways, very quickly.
It is sad whenever innocence is robbed from a child, under extenuating
circumstances. Carlos, however, with all of his trials and tribulations
experienced in Cuba, is the epitome of the phrase "rags to riches". Ever since
Carlos stepped into my Geometry class my freshman year, I have been eager to
learn more from his culture, and the way he lives, not for the purpose of
growth, but out of curiosity. But in this world today, I slowly learned that
great things do not last forever and from then on I decided to help him feel
like he belongs, and at the same time, learn about his history and his past to
help me make decisions on my present and my future.</p>
<p>The heartbreaking stories that I have heard from him over the years do nothing
more than bring tears to my eyes. To hear about the grueling and harsh
responsibilities given to a child at the young age of 7 are both disgusting and
horrendous. One story I recall involved him having to pull a rickshaw around
the town square for hours on end, day after day. Even with this brutal task,
there was more work to be done as it only paid a trifling amount per day. This
left more room for more hard labor, of which had to be done at a rigorous pace,
in the sweltering heat. It is a wonder how Carlos even lived long enough to
make it to America, but I have always believed in miracles, and the notion that
everything happens for a reason. It is truly God's will for Carlos to be here
and spread his knowledge to those who choose to learn from him.</p>
<p>All in all, I have learned many life lessons from my good friend Carlos, and I
plan on learning more as I will stay good friends with him even after we
graduate from high school. I hope that in the future, I am still able to talk
to him and learn even more from him as he comes into his own as an American
citizen. As far as an ideal student to learn from, I think that if I encounter
a person with half of the heart and personality that Carlos has, I will be a
very, very lucky person.</p>
<p>Thanks for your time. :)</p>