<p>Best Piece of Advice:</p>
<p>With my eyes glued straight ahead and hands trembling as I re-adjusted my position behind the starting line, I pictured myself running far away from the florescent blue track at the OBrien Stadium, far away from any responsibilities to my team and to myself. Of course, any movement other than breathing at that point was completely out of the question. Movement was no longer at my discretion. The starting gunshot owned each and every muscle in my body, and it was coaxing me to wait, please, just for a few more seconds. In that moment, my mind wandered and brought me back to, what I now consider, a defining track practice. My coach looked me in the eye after a less than
perfect workout and simply stated, you cannot be satisfied with your accomplishments. </p>
<p>His seven words left me in a world of uncertainty. </p>
<p>I could not wrap my head around the idea that being proud of my successes was something open to criticism. Schools reward students for doing things adequately at best, and my coach told me that I should not be proud of being an exceptional runner. Ouch. Pushing his suggestion to the back of my mind proved to be more challenging than I presumed. I second-guessed myself every time I smiled for getting an A on a test or secured an excellent report card to the refrigerator with my favorite apple-shaped magnet. Little by little, I began to grasp that his words were far more than unadulterated disappointment: they were pieces of advice. I thought back to all my previous achievements and finally understood that they were just stepping-stones into a place that would challenge and better me as a person, student, and athlete, and being satisfied with them would put me in a comfortable position where excellence was already achieved and no longer expected. Reveling in the triumphs of yesterday did not assist me in making a better tomorrow for myself, nor does it make for a more successful today.</p>
<p>When the gun finally went off, I was mentally and physically prepared. As I lunged into the unknown territory of my first state track race, the words never satisfied played in my head and carried my legs around the 400 meter track step by step, second by second to attain a new personal best. Not only the mantra I use to motivate me through a race, never satisfied is the way in which I plan to live my life. Although to some it has a negative connotation, I use it as a tool of inspiration to push me to always take an extra step outside of the anticipated. Life has blessed me with many things to be proud of, but never being satisfied encourages me to stay motivated and strive for beyond what I have already accomplished to something bigger and better. Never satisfied, is not only the most baffling criticism someone gave me, but the most relevant piece of advice to apply to life.</p>
<p>Why Brown?
You know about the rich culture both Providence and Brown offer their inhabitants. You know how stimulating and beautiful the Georgian style buildings are. You know Browns open curriculum furnishes students with opportunities for knowledge on every end of the educational spectrum. Supplying an answer describing the endless strengths Brown possess as an institution of higher learning would serve no purpose but to classify me as someone average, generic, and ordinary. And that would be just plain insulting. Browns almost paradoxical system of responsibility-inducing freedom parallels my own paradoxical self: I love the school, but I could not explain why. My gut instinct tells me Brown is where I belong, and my gut is a near flawless judge of situations. I am the kind of quirky person who lets an imaginary organ influence her decisions, but I am also the kind of quirky person who would fit right in at Brown.</p>