Example Of Ghandi Personal Statement

“Are you ready to go?” my grandmother asked. Before I could answer, my brother and sister ran up to greet her. Afterwards around two or three hours, me and two of my younger siblings left to Columbia with my grandmother. But, my parents and my youngest sister left a few hours after we had left. After an exhausting and strenuous three hour car ride, we finally reached my grandmother’s house. A few days later, my whole family and my grandmother went out looking for houses to buy. My family saw numerous houses, some I enjoyed better than others. One house in particular caught my eye. Not the house itself, but the fact that we would have to be homeschooled instead of going to a whole new school. Being six and all, I was dreading the fact that I would have to go to school. Think about it, I was a six year-old that left my school and all of my friends in Georgia that had to go to a whole other school in South Carolina with no friends or even people that I knew. Sadly, my parents didn’t end up buying that particular house. Although, I think that my parents wanted me to go to school. The house my parents chose needed some work and style. The room that I sleep in now used to be an appalling shade of brown. The playroom used to

Unlike most people, I did not get to be a carefree child for long. Even though I always said that I could not wait to grow up, now I wish that it all did not happen so fast and early in my life. From eleven to twelve years old—that would be the period I describe as the time I had to put my big-girl pants on and face the real, cruel and unwelcoming adult world. In that time period, I can specifically pinpoint two major events that ended my childhood: my move from Russia to the United States and the birth of my baby sister Toma. To some those might not seem significant enough to change someone’s life to the extent that they changed mine; however those events molded me into the person I am today.

Ronita had returned to school, 2 years after Katrina, when she went into labor. The local schools, overwhelmed by thousands of children displaced from New Orleans did not welcome more students, especially with babies, and her help with her youngest brother was needed at home. She liked high school and had hoped to graduate, baby and all, but worried her mother and grandmother could not manage without her.

In this role, I ensured the organized ran smoothly and grew to optimal levels by means of events such as successful fundraisers and social/morale boosting events. I also built strong long lasting relationships with individual members as well as we worked together in achieving and surpassing our goals set forth by the national campaign. This was great experience because under my leadership, we implemented various social media plans such as email marketing through MailChimp, automated tweets through Buffer, and crowdfire automated responses. In this role, I also became one of the national website administrator for our page that ran through

We would go and do all kinds of things together and those days account for some of my earliest memories. As her first grandchild, we developed a great relationship that we still have today. When the time finally came for me to go to school, it was tough for my Nana to not have me at home every day, but for my parents they couldn’t be more proud of their little boy. My first years of school were great. I was fortunate to have my mother as my kindergarten teacher, but when first grade came so did my first life changing experience. On August 23, 2005, Hurricane Katrina struck the Mississippi Gulf Coast. That day I woke up, the skies a haunting grey, as the storm moved inland reports of flooding, strong winds, and even tornados came over the television, as my family prepared for the storm’s impact. Sadly, Hattiesburg got the worst Katrina had to offer. The eye of the storm moved directly over us, and when the eye wall struck is when my entire family wondered if it would be our final day on this Earth. At this point, the power had gone out and we sat in an eerie darkness, only equal to that of a war zone. The only sound we could hear was whipping of the wind and pounding of the

A girl, long black hair falling like curtains around her face, sat in her college classes with no friends, nearly invisible, this was me on my first day of college in the United States. Growing up as a little village girl, ironing my school dresses before sunrise each morning, combing my hair, packing my lunch, completing my homework with precision after school each day, and then helping my grandmother in the evenings, made up my childhood routine. I spent my childhood being raised by and living with my grandparents in a village in India. These were some of the best days of my life. Our relationship provided me with a unique gift to learn about their life experiences and wisdom. I loved being my grandfather’s grocery shopping companion and my grandmother always told the best bedtime stories that were oral traditions passed down for generations.

Jennie grew up in George, Iowa. Her childhood wasn’t a very pleasant one. I am sure it was good compared to some, but it could’ve been better. She grew up with her parents and her two younger brothers. Her whole life, and still to this day, her parents were heavy drinkers. When I asked how this affected her childhood she struggled to find the words to match the emotions running across her face, and finally said, “It was tough, and I had to keep an eye on my brothers a lot.” Her parents did not encourage her much with important opportunities, such as education. This is one of the reasons her education stopped after she graduated high school. When in high school, she wanted to be a social worker, which again proves her love to care for others. When asked why this wish did not come true, she replied, “Teenage pregnancy changed it all.” Having a baby at the age of sixteen was tough, but so is Jennie. She managed to graduate high school, while caring for her child. After graduating, she moved around a little, and had another child, me. After having me, she moved to Kansas City, but eventually moved back to George with her family. She had two more kids, and when asked if she had planned on having 4 kids, she said, “I never had a certain number.” She is very successful today as a mother and as an employee at her job in Sheldon, Iowa. I find it inspiring that she was able to overcome so much in her young ages, and still be so happy and successful in her

“You're on your own now,” said my stepmom on the phone when I first moved to Tampa after freshman year. Leaving my parents back in Bangladesh was indeed painful, but I was hopeful as I had my older brother and aunt with me. My aunt has been sick for a long time, and although it’s not life-threatening, she needed someone to take care of her. My brother decided to work part-time jobs while I would stay home to look after her. I was distressed because I felt that my four years of high school would be spent just by studying and staying home. Well, who knew that my leadership skills would be bolstered at home and I would gain invaluable experiences gradually?

“Things are going to be different for you now,” my mother said with tears streaming down her face. I was the oldest of five and would be the first in my family to attend college. “Things will be better for you.”

After a long ride, we saw our new home for the first time. It wasn’t luxurious, but to a couple of young children like us it was cool to live on the beach. The changes that lied ahead of us were great. There are many ways in which this new start changed my life. First, no longer did we live in fear. This enabled me to move on. I enrolled in eight grade that year. I felt like had a fresh start. No one knew my business. I could make myself whatever I wanted. My whole personality changed. That year I started at quarterback for junior high and from there everything started to look up. If I was to go into details of all the success I had it would be bragging, so I am just going to say I went from a casualty of a broken home to a respected and important part of High Island High School. In the five years I was there, I had more fun and a more productive life than all the other years put together.

In retrospect, my childhood should have been wonderful, and to any outside observer it was. Our family wasn’t impoverished, we lived in a wonderful house, and life seemed to float by in an absolute utopia. “The American Dream” is an understatement to describe that life by any means. Of course, nothing is ever as it seems. A picture says a thousand words, but how many of them are true? Only I knew what happened behind our closed doors. To outsiders, we where perfect. However, what the bulk of the masses did not know is just what was hidden. Long nights spent in tears, from myself, my mother, even my father.

At the age of 14, I moved from Atlanta to Las Vegas, then to Los Angeles. Atlanta was the place I grew up in, the place where I developed my personal identity, the place where I established lasting relationships, and the place I never wanted to leave. During my move, I lost every aspect that defined who I was as I my new peers shunned and isolated me due to by my “distinct lifestyle and characteristics In comparison to my brothers, I was never given the opportunity to receive the “typical” high school experience that is often seen on movies, as I was often alienated in my new setting. I attended two different high schools in two different states, allowing me never to fully establish long-lasting relationships that my mother and my brothers attained during their high school

In spite of the overwhelming stresses of the realities in which my family and I were consumed by, my mother was always the superglue that held us together since we lacked the support of my father. At ten years old, my mother lost her government job due to a back injury. Hearing the words, “Mama can’t afford to live here,” at the young age of ten, really pushed me to do better in life. I saw our only hope of the white picket fence American Dream and being a successful family sliding from our grips. I was handed over to a family friend soon after my mother was laid off. At the age of fifteen, I secured my first job. It wasn’t much but I made enough to cover my biological mother’s household water utility bill and half of the electricity bill. At sixteen, I started a job at the local mall, where I grew to understand to control my attitude and personality in the workplace. In 2013, I was seventeen years old when I lost my step in mother to

Up until that year, I felt like the only one in my elementary who hadn’t experienced anything drastically life-changing. I had loving parents to come home to every day: a dad and mom who embraced my unique qualities and would disregard their necessities solely to ensure my emotional, mental and physical security. I was blessed with a family that cared for me tremendously, one that I equally adored. Although my life was nowhere near the epitome of perfection, it was somewhat ideal in the eyes of many. The fact that I didn't know what it was like to feel unloved, burdensome, or secondary was incongruous with the majority of kids I attended school with. I was aware that I mattered while unaware that it was a privilege that I did. Even though I wasn't sure how or why I was important, my family guaranteed that I knew without question. I hardly had a clue at that moment that life would always be persistently fickle and unpredictable, ready to alter the possibility of your expectations for what is in store.

As a child, you never had to think about what you were going to eat that night; you just knew there would be food on the table. You never once considered how much something cost; you just knew mom and dad could afford it. I never had that typical childhood where life seems like a breeze and you never had to worry about anything that went on around you. I was forced to grow up at a very young age in order to help my family pay for life’s inconveniences. I took on two jobs every year around my community trying to scrape up a few dollars to keep the lights on in the house for just one more week. I was lucky if I saw my parents every night before bed since they both worked from sunrise to sun set. As a result of my parent’s absences, I took it upon myself and stepped into my mother’s place. I learned how to cook, clean, and care for my siblings at the age of eight.