<p>I've been stressing about this essay for a while, and I was wondering if someone would help me out. My outlook varies greatly from my parents, so I wouldn't be comfortable with them reviewing it. It's difficult to identify errors in one's own writing, so I really need help. Any feedback considering my topic and such would be greatly appreciated as well. Thank you!</p>
<pre><code> I have lived all seventeen years of my existence here in Huntsville, Alabama, so aptly called "The Rocket City" because of our close association with space missions and rocket science. Ever since the relocation of Werner von Braun to Redstone Arsenal, Huntsville had transformed from a sleepy mill town to a haven for technology and ideas, including those that made the rocket that got a man on the moon. A replica of the Saturn 5 serves as our city beacon, telling visitors who we are upon their arrival and making sure they don’t forget us after their departure. I have loved my city’s close association with science and technology; however, I have not always been accepted by it.
I have been in love with all things science for as long as I can remember, pouring over children’s encyclopedias multiple times, eager to learn every little tidbit I could. Learning new things had always excited me, and I especially loved learning and applying science. Naturally, I was excited when I had the opportunity to attend Space Camp, as every self-respecting Huntsvillian should be. I had a blast, but the most memorable moment was when a councilor noticed me covertly reading a Star Wars novel at lunch and decided to poke fun at me for it as other students joined him.
I was laughed at. For reading Star Wars. At Space Camp.
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<p>All because “Star Wars is for boys!” and “Girls should read girl books!” I was upset, but not surprised, as this was a common type of occurrence. I was used to people telling me what I should and should not do based solely on my gender. Teachers would tell me that I should not expect to excel in math and science because “I’m a girl” and “my brain is just different.”
I have since learned that, in order to be happy, I need to do what I want. I cannot let the opinions, comments, and expectations of others negatively affect me. It was a long struggle for me to come to terms with this, but the very moment I did, my world expanded indefinitely.
I’m glad that I am now prone to question and break given norms. I eventually became resilient to their jeers as I read my “boy books” and “do well on that math test… for a girl.” I wonder if they know that their comments only add fuel to the fire that drives me. Even today, I’m used to people questioning me as to why I would read Carl Sagan when I could read Nicholas Sparks, but I only burn brighter and brighter. These people give me the opportunity to prove that my lack of a Y chromosome does not mean a lack of capability. I used to avoid all things considered "girly”, pink, floral, or frilly, because I was taught that being female makes me less intelligent; however, I am now a proud owner of a very flowery knit shirt that calls images of a Victorian couches to mind and I am more than happy to read my “boy books” while wearing it.
I lament for the dreams of girls who did not know that they could enjoy science and do well in math. I lament for the early sparks of intrigue in my fellow girls that were stamped out by those who feared deviance from outdated customs. I lament for the young minds of girls that were limited by archaic expectations based on their gender, for I believe that anyone can excel as long as there exists the tiniest flicker of inquisition; over time, this flicker can become a powerful, insatiable inferno. I was lucky to salvage my spark before the feet of the afraid put it out, and after kindling and protecting it, it has grown and spread like a wildfire, its flames only growing higher and higher. </p>