Personal Statement : The Moon

I heard the faint high pitched beeping of my alarm clock as I opened my sleep covered eyes. I attempted to roll out from under my covers but immediately retreated as I felt the chilly spring air touch my skin. While I was mustering up the motivation to get out of bed, I glanced at my alarm clock. “11:00 AM” it read in boxy, glowing numbers. Had I really slept in that long? I finally rose from my bed, traveling down the stairs to make myself some breakfast. “Hi, girl!” I greeted my dog where she was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. I smiled to myself as I turned on some music, opened the fridge to retrieve some eggs, and turned on the stove. It felt like a fine Saturday morning until I remembered that I had a lacrosse game later

Born and raised in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia I was brought up learning that hard work and dedication can lead me to any of my goals. All through my childhood i thought i would never leave ethiopia. Mom lived in america, although there were times i missed her i could never think about leaving my family in Ethiopia. One day my dad had gotten off the phone with my mom and called me over to him. It was at this moment i heard the dreadful words “we are moving to america”.

Transitioning from the Democratic Republic Of Congo to the United States was a challenge that my family and I had to overcome. The main reason why we moved was because my father wanted a better life for my siblings and me. My father did not make enough money to pay for our education, food, housing, and other things. With the little money that he did make, he would give some to my mom so she could buy clothes and sell them in order to put food on the table. More often than not my mom was unable to sell anything so, we would go to my uncle's house to see if he could provide us with at least rice to eat with sugar. In my family's eyes, at least, the rice was better than not eating at all. One day, my father's friend called him and told him that there was a lottery game people were playing and if you won, you would be given the chance to go to the United States. My dad was the only one from my family who was allowed to play and after eight months had passed we were informed that we won! We were all so happy and ready to start a new life in America! The new excitement about moving to a better

The night air was heavy with silence. Clouds drifted across a calm sky, and a full moon shone in the distance. In a small hut on the outskirts of the valley, an old man lay in bed, awake in the peaceful slumber of the village. His breaths came in rattling gasps, his forehead burned, and his joints felt stiff with pain. He shifted on the blankets, his withered hands clenched in fists as he tried to suppress the wave of bitter memories coming to him. His life had been nothing more than work, loss, tragedy. He remembered all of his hope, his ambition, in his youth, and he smiled bitterly. No one would remember him as the man that he had once hoped he would become. Now, as his breathing became heavier and he felt himself fading on the brink of

Sitting in his pale and muted armchair, he twists, turns, and presses the buttons and knobs of his radio, with much determination. Ogden quickly glanced out of the window and was surprised to see rain and what looked like a storm forming. He the took a swift look at the clock on his desk. It was already six in the morning. With a sigh of defeat, once again he has to come to terms that it was another unsuccessful night. He was starting to hobble down the stairs with weary legs, ready to head to bed and sleep through the sunrise and awake at sunset, repeating his usual routine.

As I went downstairs the tone of the room felt hot, humid, and empty. Hot, because of the burning Atlanta temperatures of ninety-eight degrees or higher. Humid, caused by the broken air conditioning and affecting the density of the atmosphere. Finally empty. The furniture was missing and minimal sounds can bounce off to make echoes. I was departing from a place that I called home. I lived at the address 353 Leisure Court for almost a year; the identity of the street brings back smiles to my face because of its pleasantry. Living here has made me feel secure like a dog to his owner. Moving away from this security brought feelings of uncertainty. My lack of confidence was about the new beginnings my family would experience after the move. But

The boy lay there next to his father keeping each other warm from the chilling atmosphere where they set camp. The air was so moist it turned the dirt into damp mud and the boy could feel his sleeping bag submerge into it. The intimidating glare of an owl examining him sent a tingle up his spine. The sounds of bugs chiming filled the ambience, killing the silence giving him a sense of security. He looked up at the twilight sky illuminated by the blinding shimmer of the full moon gleaming through the forest trees over him. Surrounding it was an array of glimmering stars prompting the sky alive. As his body grew accustomed to the environment, each natural attribute gave him comfort and allowed him to slowly fall into a deep sleep.

Being born in the large west African nation of Nigeria, I was aware of the economic, social, and health hardships faced by many people in my country. This reality did not escape my life and the hardships my family and I faced while in Nigeria had a profound impact in the person I am today. Fortunately for us we were able to win the Visa Lottery and immigrate to America where my passion for learning and science began.

A morbid melancholy stole over me. Anxiety gnawed at my heart. I was a living corpse. There was a feeling of chill in the air every day as I felt. I faked illness so as not to go to school. Despair hangs heavy in the stifling air. It was a dreary day for me , cold and without sunshine. I dread people and always avoid people. The door was locked from the inside. A cold grey light crept under the curtains. The windows were secured with locks and bars. The room felt cold and sterile.The flowers faded for want of water. A single lamp was suspended from the ceiling. The clock ticked louder and louder in a quiet room. I regarded the room as a refuge from the outside

I was born in the capital of Colombia, Bogota. At the age of six, my family decided we would immigrate to the United States in search of economical stability, a better quality of life and better opportunities of education for my brother and I. My parents were ready to leave their families, jobs, and everything they knew behind. They talked about how wonderful life in the United States would be, and found comfort in the abundance of jobs, good salaries, good schools and opportunities North America would offer our family. I then believed that stepping foot on the US was a guarantee for a wonderful life, the American dream. Unfortunately from the beginning of my journey I realized life is not easy and mature immensely in the ongoing process of achieving the American dream.

The sun was kissing the horizon; the day was just beginning, and the sweet sounds of the birds morning sound had awakened me. I was sitting in the same spot I do day after day, happy and well rested. I awoke from my peaceful slumber with a large, clanging chime that echoed off the walls and the roof. The sounds of footsteps stomped down the stairs, and there, as always, was Todd. And as he always does, he shuffled his way to the kitchen and turned on the coffee. Finally, as the aroma of burnt coffee grounds filled the air, a new day had begun.

The unfortunate event began a completely new and terrifyingly dreadful life experience in which all my previous hard endeavors of securing the structurally sound habit of dedication, commitment, and studying I exercised extensively during my senior year, with the inner weapon of possessing powerful agency to absorb material with an extreme passion and letting my heart beat madly on long-distance runs whenever possible were indeed losing their color at a quickening pace. Suddenly I began to doubt my worth and the world’s lessons soon disappeared from my unawakened consciousness. The delicate networks of improvement and inner faith were becoming swept into a tide wayward, far out to sea where the light of my touch couldn’t embrace it.

Born across the Atlantic in Ethiopia, I never imagined that I would have such a great opportunity in the United States. I thought that I lived a decent life in Ethiopia, and I generally did not have great ambitions to move to a different place. Because I was never exposed to possibilities elsewhere, I felt that my position was the norm, if not better. Granted, I attended a private school and was among the upper echelon of students there. Living in the capital city, I enjoyed the many activities I was able to participate outside of school. I actually remember playing golf in my backyard using equipment my father brought from the U.S. My father, also from Ethiopia, was in the United States for most of my childhood. I had lived in Ethiopia with

The harsh sound of the alarm shatters my dream and I open my eyes to a white ceiling and pristine white sheets. Another nightmare where I was in a morning treadmill session that never ended, shackled to the slick, black running machine and forced to put one leg in front of the other. “Good Morning Residents of Moloch. This is your daily reminder of your importance to humanity. You are the beacon of hope for this society. By remaining in this condensed space we are allowing the outside world to rejuvenate and become the beautiful place it once was. By continuing sustainable practices and living a healthy lifestyle. I let the words wash over me and will that I can lie in this comfortable warm bed forever. But soon the blankets lift up automatically

A chilled breeze caused my hair to stand up on end, so I peek over my shoulder to see the window in my bedroom door open. The blue, polka-dotted whipped around violently but I couldn 't hear the sounds of a strong wind. Huh, could have sworn I 'd closed that. . . I spring to my feet and shiver as I step across the cold floor toward my room. On my tip-toes, I pull the screen down to shut it and take a minute to stare out the window. The moon cast a dim light over the small town, illuminating only the fronts of houses and the tip of trees, abandoning all else to darkness. A light fog danced in the distance and I smiled thinking how perfect it looked on Halloween 's night. I looked down from the top floor one last time then tugged the curtains shut.