<p>Could someone plz read over and give me feedback on my optional essay for MIT application? Its the prompt where it says something like "is there anythinge else that would give admission officers a more complete picture of you?" i know its kinda long but i need help...thx</p>
<pre><code>My childhood has been filled with many experiences. By the age of three, I had flown halfway across the world from my native country of Taiwan to England. Most people regard England as very proper and regal. The British people, without even knowing it, seem to emanate a sense of high society and stateliness. To foreigners, the British accent sounds so proper and so sophisticated, that we as foreigners are so afraid to speak for fear that we might sound silly or childish. This is the place I went to when I was only three years old. According to my parents, I barely said a word during my first year there. Although I cannot rightly remember what went through my head at that time, I can imagine I was stunned speechless by the radical change in my surroundings. The flight that had lasted only a few hours, had landed me in a place I did not comprehend. I had been torn away from all that I had loved and known up until that point. Gone was the security of my home. Gone were my grandparents, relatives, and friends. Gone were the familiar streets that used to greet me as I stepped out the door. Now, I was encircled by unfamiliar people, voices, and places. My brain had to learn to comprehend a new language. My mouth had to change its tastes from oriental food to potatoes and carrots. My body literally had to toughen up to withstand the brutally cold winters of England. After my first year was over, I finally burst out talking in an unmistakable and utterly British accent. I had adjusted. I was now able to settle down in the land of monarchs, castles, and howling winters.
It seemed as if I had only begun to feel at home when I was forced to readjust again. After three short years, my parents were assigned to the mission field in Ghana, West Africa. Another radical change forced me to run with it as I boarded another plane. Once again, a flight that took only hours plopped me down in a foreign location. The airport that received us looked as if it was ready to fall apart. The paint on the walls was yellow and peeling. The concrete floor was covered in a layer of trash. Stepping outside, my eyes were captured by throngs of Africans pushing the police barrier, trying to steal something or earn some money. Vicious police dogs had to be restrained by police officers as they snarled at the crowd. As I stood in shock, someone grabbed my wrist and took my watch right off my arm. Hurried into a car, my family was driven to the WEC guest house where we spent the first few weeks. Those days are a blur in my memory. All I remember is the overwhelming sun, dirt floors, disgusting medicine to prevent malaria, and seeing no one with my skin color on the streets. As I finally settled into a routine in Ghana, I once again had to adapt myself to my surroundings. The first obstacle I had to overcome was that of accepting where I was. I had to realize that now, when I stepped outside of my house, I was a white person. I was an object of interest to the Ghanaian children. Whenever my family took outings into town, we were followed by a throng of curious children. It wasnt that we were celebrities or anything of the sort; we were just simply different. I had to get used to myself being the only fair-skinned person on the street. As I learned the new customs, I had to apologize more than once for using my left hand which was a sign of disrespect. I learned the basic greetings in order to be able to greet the elderly as they passed as a sign of respect. These formal greetings included simple phrases like how is your wife/ husband? How are your children? Did you sleep well last night? Simple phrases that I memorized but brought a huge grin to the faces of the people I greeted. Another obstruction in my journey to adaptation was that of simply being satisfied with the simple. The goods available in the market were not abundant. My mother could not find the ingredients she needed for many dishes and so simply had to come up with her own. I learned to enjoy things while they were in abundance. Simplicity did not only apply to food and diet; it applied to everyday living as well. In Ghana, I saw kids entertain themselves for an entire day with only a stick and a rubber bicycle tire. Although I never did learn the art of rolling a tire with a stick, I did try my hand at other things. My brother and I made our own toys out of wood and tape. After school, my friends and I would climb a tree and sit up on the limbs talking. Regarded by some as the life of depravity, this was my ultimate. Life for me in Ghana was all about family, friends, and having innocent fun. There was no constant nagging thought about school and societys expectations. The life of simplicity was truly carefree. When I finally started appreciating a plain life, it was time for me to move on again.
Moving to the United States was especially hard but necessary. My siblings and I had to continue our education and so my parents left the mission field. When we arrived in the US, everything changed in one second. It is not possible to fully explain the feeling unless it is personally experienced. In a split second, we were back in a first world country. Everything could be bought at the local supermarket, and items never seen before lined the shelves of stores. School was all about beating the bell and upping your classmates. Switching from a slow-paced world to a fast-paced one was not easy. All of a sudden, everything had to be done right now. Nothing could wait or be delayed even for a second to catch your breath. Life itself seemed to shout Go! Go! Go! as it rushed past day after day.
When people hear my story, they often comment on how the short 16 years of my life have been filled with so much. I can only nod my head in complete agreement and inside, be truly thankful for the people Ive met and the memories Ive made.
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