<p>well applications are in...plz critique my final essays and tell me wut u think...i applied to a couple ucs...i have average gpa blah blah well here it is</p>
<p>Q3 Personal experience</p>
<p>The engineers of the company exited the building. They didnt even glance at us. We were nothing, just incompetent custodians, inferior to them. I looked down at my push broom in shame and glanced over at my dad. He continued working like nothing had happened at all. His humility still humbles me.<br>
For the last two summers, I have been helping my father with this job. A failed business and some poor financial decisions have forced him into this line of work. His job is exhausting and often times frightening. Dark offices and the eerie red glow of fire alarms is nothing to joke about. The thought of one person carrying on this burden is daunting. But when he asked me to help him work, I was horrified. I saw this job as something below me; I was better than this.
I am ashamed of the days when I pretended to be asleep so I could avoid workI was so naïve. It wasnt the workload or the dark hallways that overwhelmed me, as much as it was the condescension that we were treated with. I hated the idea of cleaning up after other peopleit humiliated and embarrassed me.
The common question that people ask about parents occupations frightened me. I was too ashamed to say how my dad made his living, and avoided it at all costs. When unable to escape answering the dreaded question, I would be vague and dishonesteventually not really answering the question at all. Simply put, I did not want to associate myself with such low class work.
At one time, I even felt a misdirected animosity towards my father. Couldnt he just look for another job? Why should I have to feel like this? It did not hit me until one day, I walked in on my father in the middle of filling out an application for another job. The Korean-English dictionary lay open, for he needed its aid to fill out the application. If my father could not even fill out an application without the aid of a dictionary, how would he survive in the real working world? My dad was helplessliving in a foreign country, surrounded by unfamiliarity and unable to do anything about it. I realize that my situation is what my dad can only dream of. I am a Korean American fully immersed in the English language and American way of life, with opportunities just within my grasp. I dont intend for these opportunities to go to waste.
I reflect on my experiences and can only feel thankful towards my father. If I hadnt undergone the tortuous effects of low wage labor first-hand, would I be so motivated to escape it now? I would not even be here, writing these very words, if my dad had not shown me what I should avoid, and what I should work for.
I see my parents toiling day and nightworking low paying jobs, and trying to make our lives as normal as possible. I see it in their fatigued faces: theyre worried about next months rent, theyre worried about how they will support our futures. It breaks my heart seeing my dads callused hands as he labors with his mop and vacuum, it breaks my heart seeing my mother being belittled by customers for her lack of English. I draw motivation from my parents. Im probably not the most qualified candidate for this college, but I have the most incentive to succeed. Regardless of if I get into this college or not, let it be heard, James Lee will make it in this world.</p>