Narrative Essay On D1 College

I’m raised in an environment filled with negative stereotypes, high dropout rates, fewer resources, and low expectations. As a Mexican American from the San Fernando Valley, educational opportunities do not come often. In middle school it massed into my head that going to college is my way towards success. Soon it became the only option for me and as a result, I joined Project Grad to begin my journey towards college. They introduced me to the Chicano Youth Leadership Conference during my junior year. After applying and attending, the conference eliminated the label that Latinos are not college material. Subsequently, I grabbed as many opportunities as I could. In my junior my school did not put me in any AP classes. Therefore, I went to go

Growing up as a first-generation college-bound Hispanic woman has proven to be a difficult journey. Both of my parents left their home countries at a young age and came to this country without any ideas or real opportunities on where to begin. At a young age, I have been taught that having a higher education is the key to having a successful and plentiful life. However, the journey towards achieving my dream of receiving a higher education has been filled with moments where I have challenged the stereotypes about getting pregnant and dropping out of high school, facing my grandma’s unexpected illness that affected me both academically and mentally, and the challenge of being a first generation college bound student in my family.

I failed AP English. I had missed the second quarter of the school year, almost completely, due to… technical difficulties. I got discharged from the hospital mid-February, and for the remainder of junior year, the majority of my waking thoughts revolved around passing 11th grade. With motivational speeches coming at me from my parents, friends, and teachers, I began to believe I had a chance of passing the year. I did my best, which apparently was not enough. My teacher had picked up on my tremendous amount of effort, and on the last day of school, bumped my grade up to a low D — just enough to pass. I was not exactly about to put my grade on display or anything, but I passed! Technically. This is not one of the underdog-who-succeeded stories. The real success for me was (look away, it’s cliché) realizing my best was enough. I sound disgusting.

High School wasn’t smooth sailing for me and my GPA wasn’t at its full potential. With senior prom and all my senior activities it felt as if time was slowly but surely running out. High school was some of my best years but I was dying to graduate and attend college and be on my own but in order to do so I had to score really high on the ACT or SAT. I was so nervous while taking the SAT and I didn’t do good as I wanted to, feeling defeated I studied really hard for the ACT. Even though I studied the butterflies when I entered the room where the test was being administered wouldn’t go away but I did feel more confident. I took the test and waited days for my results. I was so excited that I scored a 24. I learned that if you put your mind to something you will succeed every time. I took full responsibility for my future and I planned on having a bright one. I felt as a weight was lifted off of my shoulders. After receiving the good news I applied to a total of four universities and I was accepted by all of them. Even though I applied to different schools my dream college was to attend Louisiana State University. Unfortunately LSU’s nursing program is not like an average nursing program. Sadly their nursing program is not located on LSU’s campus

It happened all through-out college. I had always heard stories about body-shaming with overweight individuals, but I never thought that it would happen to myself or the millions of other young women on college campuses.

Despite the love and support of my family, I did succumb to making poor choices. I started hanging with the wrong group of friends, caring less about school, doing things the Lizmery now wouldn’t do. My perspective changed when I entered high school. I noticed how much of a rebel I had been with my family. I understood then, all the things that my mother had done and sacrificed to give my sister and me the world. I saw my sister earn her master's degree and buy a house. As the youngest, I had great role models in front of me. I knew that what I did in the next four years had to be drastic. I had to step outside of my comfort zone, leave the negative friends behind, and take my education

I had walked the halls of the hospital so many times; I knew it like the back of my hand. My mom was beside me attempting to keep me in good spirits. We sat down in the testing room and waited for the doctor to arrive. The test was rather short and painless compared to the dozens of others I had before. After it was over the doctor told us the same thing every other doctor had told me, ‘We’ll let you know the results in a few days.” The results came back and they had discovered a cist on my ovary. After that I was sent to the best gynecologist in the state and after a few visits we had finally discovered what put my life on hold for years. The road to relief was not easy or short, but at the end shaped me into the person I am today.

I struggle to keep my eyes open. I sit, exhausted on my third cup of coffee, staring at my Anatomy and Physiology textbook unable to retain the information from the lecture earlier that day. At this moment I realize I may have taken on too much. From the forty hour work week between my two jobs, to caregiving for my ill mother, I feel as though a full college course load is the last thing I can manage. Nothing could have prepared me for this difficult semester ahead of me that left me questioning my ability to complete an Associates in Science for the Health Professions.

My freshman year at Community College of Philadelphia was interesting and a great learning experience. Being a criminal justice major we have requirements that is needed to be completed. I tried to take the easy way out and it backfired on me. I took SOC 101 online and the professor taught me a lesson of tough love. He failed me and told me “come back when you’re serious.” I was embarrassed and disappointment in myself. Since that day I took college seriously and every experience been good.

So when I turned eighteen, I and some of my classmates flew to the neighboring island to see the United States Army Recruiter. My recruiter showed me a video of what an infantryman does and I was sold, then told him that this is the perfect job for me. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. It was hard for my parents to accept that I was joining the Army, especially my mom, all she could think of was that I was going to war and bad things could happen to me. She didn’t want me to experience that kind of life and she couldn’t bear the thought of losing one of her own children. So the day I flew off to basic I told my parents, “Everything will be fine trust me”. This was my first time leaving the islands and being away from my family for a good while. So myself and two of my buddies started basic training together, we stuck together as soon as we got to 30th AG. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into I have never seen so many different people in one area. I have never experienced being away on my own for the first time, I had no clue what was going on. I wanted to give up and quit, but I told myself no! I cannot go back home as a quitter, ever since then, my motivation that kept me going was my family and friends, I wanted them to be proud of who I’ve become. I graduated basic training February 2005 with Fort Campbell

Opening my sketchbook, the image of a whole city sleeping quietly while white snow blankets it with its beauty captured my eyes. Memories pulled me back to two years ago; to the first time I encountered Boston University. It was winter, the whole campus was covered in snow, which made the old classic buildings and accustomed roads all covered with white, just like in Cinderella’s stunning evening dress. Gazing at this image dressed in white, I tried to suppress the stirring in my heart. For me, Boston University is a mystery, and I would probably regret it for the rest of my life if I did not grasp this opportunity to be a part of this fairy tale.

Throughout high school, I was the youngest student in my classes; starting college at age 53, I find the opposite to be true. As an adolescent, I had a fantastic memory and a quick mind, but no desire to learn. Now learning comes hard. I am determined to succeed, but can struggle to remember what I did last week, let alone formulas for calculating the angles and sides of a triangle. Working retail for the last ten years was enjoyable, introduced me to lifelong friends and allowed me to purchase specialized outdoor gear that I never knew I needed, at ridiculously cheap prices, however it did nothing to stimulate my brain. When my daughter was young, I worked as a bookkeeper and I am confident I have an excellent mind for that type of job. Entering

I was a very troubled child growing up. This put a lot of pressure on my parents, they would say, “Just go to school and get good grades so you can live a good life,” but I didn’t listen. All I did in life was chase girls and go partying; I was pretty much a train wreck to society. So my best option was the military because I had no scholarships or a direction in the career I wanted to pursue. If there was a career for being a letdown then I was all for it. So as life goes on every day I get more mature and appreciate the things that I wouldn’t have years ago. My parents call me daily just to keep me in touch with the family since I am in training. Yesterday I overheard a frightening conversation that my roommates were having in the hallway

Recently, Yale University announced that it would be removing former Vice President John C. Calhoun name from one of their residential colleges. While we know now that slavery was immoral and ultimately abolished, Calhoun, an 1804 Yale graduate was a committed slavery supporter. The university will remained the said residential college after Navy Rear Admiral Grace Murray Hopper who was a pioneering computer scientist.

I never had a normal life. My mom and dad were never married, so they never got along. My grandma watched my cousin and I a lot. My parents were abusive, more verbally than physically, but sometimes words hurt more than anything. Even though my parents were abusive I still love them. My dad always tried really hard to give me everything I needed and wanted, yet whenever he got mad about something, he took it out on me. My mom, on the other hand, was a victim of drugs and alcohol. At the age seven I didn’t really know anything about drugs except they were bad. If I had the chance to go back in time and try to stop my mom from partying and doing drugs I would have. I still do not do drugs, I never will.