<p>You guys make me feel so bad about my essay. All I have to say is the essays for engineering applicants, on average, better be significantly worse.</p>
<p>Very well written only complaint is you didnt really focus on one idea and it seemed a little scatterd going from the breathing under water to prom just doesnt transition that great.</p>
<p>"You guys make me feel so bad about my essay. All I have to say is the essays for engineering applicants, on average, better be significantly worse." </p>
<p>This might be stereotyping, but I WOULD assume that engineering applicants would be worse. I would assume that engineering applicants are more left-brain [since math and spatial skills are on that side] creativity/speech focused on the right brain would be less astounding.</p>
<p>miktau: Yep, bad transitions are the flaws in mine. I've always had that problem, just like how some people just fail at conclusions. But thanks!</p>
<p>Hey hilsa I applied EDI to vandy's engineering school, and got in. Do you want me to post my essay?</p>
<p>Yes please</p>
<p>Special Olympics: A New Perspective
Two weeks ago, I prepared an essay for this application which discussed my love for math and how I am able to relate it to my daily actions both in a scientific and abstract sense. I wrote about how I was able to excel in math beyond any other subject and incorporated my experiences as being a high school student taking differential equations at the University of Alabama in Huntsville. This paper was intended to reveal how this subject has shaped my decisiveness, my logic, and even the way I carry myself. On October 14, however, I found a subject even more meaningful to share. On this date, I volunteered for the 2008 Huntsville City Schools’ Special Olympics. This event not only changed my essay, but it also impacted my perspective on life.
I volunteered to participate for the Special Olympics through my JROTC program. At a local football stadium, our Battalion stood in two columns as a school bus pulled in front of us. We were instructed to pair ourselves with one student coming off of the bus and spend the entire day with that person. We were responsible for registering and assisting our student through various scheduled events throughout the day. Since I was the Battalion Commander, I paired myself with the first student off of the bus. I was covered from head to toe in my ACU (Army Combat Uniform), and with the sun beaming down on me I was secretly wishing that the day was over before it even began. Then, Morgan stepped off of the bus.<br>
I approached and greeted him with a big smile, not really knowing what to expect or how to act. I have not had many close encounters with someone with special needs, so I was nervous in my initial encounter with Morgan. I figured the best thing to do was to act as normal as possible and simply guide and assist him if he needed help. I tried not to be a patronizing care taker but more as a motivating peer.
It was still an hour until Morgan’s first event, so I guided him to the bleachers in the stadium and tried to start a conversation. I felt uneasy about the lingering silence between us, and I had an eerie sense that Morgan did not trust me. I tried to start some small talk by asking Morgan a series of open-ended questions about his favorite color and his favorite movie. Morgan would not respond to any of my questions and would only blankly look into space. As my eyes wondered throughout the stadium and looking at the other interactive special needs students, I selfishly wished I was paired with a student besides Morgan. Later, Morgan’s high school counselor came and introduced herself to me. I told her my name was Aladine (pronounced Aladdin), and I glanced at Morgan smiling in response to my name. This was the first time I saw Morgan express emotion.
I noticed some of the special-needs students assembling in the middle of the football field and dancing to pop music while waiting for their next event. When I asked Morgan if he wanted to dance, he dully indicated that he did, displaying very little excitement. As we approached the collection of students in the field, Morgan increasingly became reserved and did not want to dance. Even though I personally do not like to dance in public, I hoped that if I started dancing, Morgan would feel more comfortable and follow suit. While I was dancing, I noticed Morgan feeling more relaxed with the music, and he suddenly started dancing excitedly. As I was cheering him on, other students and mentors formed a circle around Morgan and chanted, “Go Mor’gan! Go Mor’gan!” Seeing Morgan and his peers enjoying the music showed me that they can still have fun in spite of their disabilities. I began to feel that I was acquiring Morgan’s trust; I was beginning to understand and relate to him as a person and not just as someone I was paired with for the day.<br>
Morgan’s last event of the day was the 100 meter walk. By that time, I adopted the role of “cheerleader” and coach. I attempted to motivate Morgan by giving him a coach-like pep talk before the event; however, I found that I was more effective as a cheerleader. Morgan stood in the third lane and I stood next to him until I was asked to move to the sideline. After I gave Morgan one last pep talk, a double high five and a pat on the back, I finally stepped off the track. The starting shot sounded and Morgan was off. I was on the sideline walking at the same pace as Morgan, clapping my hands and cheering for him as loud as I possibly could. As we were approaching the end, I ran to the finish line with the other parents to congratulate Morgan as he crossed. Once Morgan crossed the finish line, he ran to me with his arms wide and gave me a big, squeezing hug. The fact that he was so excited for simply finishing a race struck a very emotional chord in me. I was very proud of Morgan!
The more time I spent with Morgan, the more humbled I became. I realize the heroism of the parents of these special-needs students who make what I did for six hours a lifetime commitment. I feel as if the challenges of work and school can never measure up to the challenges special-needs students and their loved ones overcome each day. At the same time, with Morgan and his peers, I witnessed the happiness special-needs students possess and tasted the immense pride that their parents have for them. I only wish that every person could savor the experience of volunteering for an event like this; it would allow for greater appreciation of life and its value. The fact that students like Morgan came out to compete and would not let their conditions define them is simply remarkable.
This experience not only impacted my perception on life, but it also reinforced my decision to study, Biomedical Engineering (BME). I want to be able to create mechanisms that will further enhance the quality of life for the impaired and challenged. I believe that work in this field has potential to allow people like Morgan to become independent and grow as individuals.</p>
<p>Hope this will help</p>
<p>Thanks, that helps me put the engineering essays in perspective. A good essay, but not a creative masterpiece.
And dang thats a longgg essay.</p>
<p>Oooh! I liked it, probably because I could relate to it. Volunteering at the Special Olympics is very heartwarming and inspiring. I'm so glad you did it. Special needs kids are great, especially the ones that try to hit on you!</p>
<p>Also hilsa dont worry my transition suck just as much if not more than yours, always been a problem of mine too.</p>
<p>Haha Pine View School much</p>
<p>hilsa that was an amazing essay! i cant believe you didnt get in, my writing is no where near that level, hopefully i will still have a chance come this march!</p>