My Experience In My Life

As I grow older and live new experiences, I realize how my childhood and God led me to the circumstance I am now, which is my last semester of nursing school. I come to appreciate my mother’s hard work to get me through school as well as through life. Growing up in a low-income family in Los Angeles, California with a dad who was a full-time alcoholic and drug addict, was not a good circumstance to grow up. My mother did not speak English or had a job and believed that a married woman is to fully depend on her husband. There were times when my 2 siblings and I had nothing to eat since my dad barely came home with money after spending it all on alcohol and drugs. Due to this living situation and the fact that I was the oldest child, I felt the strong responsibility to drop out of school once I was old enough to work. Education was not an option in my future. Since we didn’t have much money, my mom signed my siblings and me to free afterschool programs at my local Catholic church, so we could learn more about our religion and the importance of God in our lives. I remember my excitement to wake up early Sunday mornings to get ready for mass, even though it took 2 bus routes to get to church. I learned from nuns and priests the importance of caring for others as if they were my own family because everyone deserves the same type of care. Caring was something I learned through religion, and not something I was born knowing. As a way to start fresh, my dad decided to move us to

The story began about a year and some months ago. Early in the Fall 2016 semester, I met a girl named Ann through a friend of mine. My first impression of Ann was that she was very pretty, but she talked a lot. I mean a lot! After I met her, the three of us began to hangout a couple of times each week. Even though she talked a lot it was fun having her around because of the energy she brought to any situation. At first, I felt that being around her drained my energy, but I eventually got accustomed to it, and grew to feed off it.

I don’t know how to start my story.I might start it when I was a baby or as far as I can remember. Let’s go as far as I remember. It’s not going to be much but i’ll try my best to tell you.

It is not too long ago that I decided to become a pharmacist. I lived in South Korea most of my life. Back then, I had no idea what I wanted to be other than thinking about immigrate to the United States. I had chance to visit my uncle’s college graduation when I was a little boy and I only dreamed about living in the U.S ever afterward. For example, I decided to go to nursing school simply because there are more chances to move to the U.S as a nurse. The problem was I did not do well in terms of academic performance because I only thought about how to move to the U.S. Additionally, I admitted to hospital couple of times because of a pneumothorax so my gpa bottomed out.

It was the first year of my high school, I just finished my final chemistry exam, and came out of my classroom. I got my phone form my pocket, and I found my father called me 10 times during the test. I thought my father might has some important or emergency staff that he needs tell me, so I called him back. After serval annoying phone ringtone, I heard my dad’s voice. My father spoke very slowly and weekly，I almost can image his tired face and dirty T-shirt with his voice. He said: “Your mother got uterine cancer, and she has a surgery tomorrow. I already buy the air tickets for you and your brother this afternoon. After you guys arrived, we can go to hospital together.” I felt like I am freezing at that time, so many question jump into my mind. When my mother got cancer? If she has a surgery, how many success rate with this surgery? I want to know a lot of things about my mother’s situation, but I chose do not any question because I was so afraid of know more things. After checking boarding time and the airline with my father hangs up the phone, I felt so unreal about what I just heard. I dropped all my packages in my dorm, me and my brother Leo went to the Beijing international Airport by a taxi. It was my first time go back to my hometown after I studied in Beijing. People usually are happy and excited when they go back to their hometown. However, my returning travel was extremely sad. During the fly, me and my brother didn’t have any conversation, but I can see a

Knowing who you are is an important step in life. Knowing your identity is something that is expected of you before you even graduate highschool. When students are being surveyed for acceptance, they are being chosen for what they have done rather than what they can do. Granted, what you have done is a good reflector of what you can do, but what you can do isn’t what you have done. I come from a family that values hard work and character. No one in the entirety of my family has any special diploma or fancy piece of paper that tells everyone what they are good at. No one in my family has any clue what I am writing about right now.

After my dad passed, my life took a turn. My family was falling apart and I was just a little child at the time. I felt as if I was drifting at sea all alone. My mom had to work twice as for our family to thrive and me and my brother, Allen, had to give up our childhood belongings to attend school. I started to see my mom less often than I used to and that made me go through a depression phase.

I love to learn. I think of knowledge as having your very own super power, however I do not like all the unnecessary negative aspects of high school. Everyone says you’ll look back and wish you were still in high school; so do not try to grow up too fast. High school has opened my eyes to what is most important in my life. Every difficult experience with the help of my grandmother has shaped me to develop the willingness to look inside myself and to believe in myself.

When I was younger, I always found myself with a pencil and paper in my hand. I would leave a multitude of marks on the paper in some form or fashion, whether it be scribbles, repetitive words and sentences, my name, or the names of family members. Growing older, I would find myself writing more than enough when it came to essays. I could never bring myself to leave out any details and I rarely used simple sentences. Originally, I thought it was because I wanted the validation of my parents and teachers, but it was something else I had yet to realize. I liked writing and it hit me one day when I was in my room, listening to music.

The airport right now is packed. The steady sounds of feet against flooring echoes in my ears. A child's scream brings me back from a daydream. For a second I forgot where I was or what I was about to do.  I honestly still can't believe this is happening. Especially to me. From the dull normalized life I live, I am about to throw in a mixture of crazy the likes I couldn't even fathom.

Hope Rebecca Davis, a little formal don’t you think? You’d think that my parents thought I was going to be the hope of the world or something of that sort, but that is the farthest from the truth. I was named Hope just because my mom thought that Hope was a “pretty” name. As you know that was probably a bit disappointing for me, but my name represents a great deal to me. Hope means to have a feeling of expectation or desire for a certain thing to happen… then I considered the following, I can be the person in the world that makes these things happen. I can be the change in this unfluctuating society. I can be the person I want to be when I grow older, I just don’t know what I desire to do yet. But experiences in my life such as these are going to guide me to where I need to be.

Every moment of accomplishment is success and there is one event in my life that stands out above the rest. I stood waiting in the psychiatric ward of the hospital, awaiting my father’s embrace. I was eager, but not ready to see him after months of waiting and wondering. Nevertheless, my palms were sweaty, arms crossed, unwelcoming to the unknown. This was the first hospital that allowed me to visit my father as a 12 year old because of safety regulations. My heart sunk as I walked into this unfamiliar place. I immediately noticed the eerie aura of the place. The walls were lifeless with no sign of photographs or memories--just a blank canvas of gray. It saddened me that this is where he was staying everyday without an escape. I saw people struggling with serious mental illness: bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, and clinical depression. It was a shock to see my father amongst patients who were clearly mentally ill. Despite my unrest with this new reality, I have found an undeniable interest in medicine and health after seeing my dad be prescribed many combinations of medicine trying to find the one that would counteract his mental illness.

Growing up I had a good life. I lived with my brother, sister, and both of my parents together as a good family. My parents really taught me how to be respectful and responsible. I was lucky to have them as good influences in my life. I am not one to disrespect anyone unless they have done me wrong. I grew up caring about school and always wanting to perform well and anything that I do. There were many challenges and events that helped me become the person I am today. One of which is when my family and I had the opportunity to visit our home country, Zimbabwe.

Finally, were here, just getting off the plane me, Chris, and Jacob and a bunch of other kids and adults I did not know well some of them I did but I was too distracted by everything around me to care about who else was getting off. All I cared about was that we were there and the long trip was over. I got off the plane and started looking around me and I could see the water, the trees, and the heat was so bad. It felt like we were walking around and seeing the people there and it was so different unlike anything I had seen before everyone looked happy and without a care in the world. There were people walking around with drinks and smiling and laughing and from that point on I knew it was going to be a good trip.

My first semester as a college student is coming to an end. I remember moving in, scared of making friends and starting a new adventure. I remember wandering around like a lost sheep attempting to find the classrooms I would spend the next few months in. All this seems like it happened forever ago, but in reality, it was just three short months ago. Mid-semester, I recall beginning to countdown the weeks left. And now here I am. I made it.