Reflection Paper

763 Words4 Pages
My life once consisted of waking up, school, homework, church and going to bed only to do it all once again. When I was six, I moved across the Atlantic from Nigeria, and away from a life that I was told to appreciate, and classify as pure happiness. My first community was one that consisted of people that looked exactly like me, who had the strength to move mountains. I was taught to appreciate my culture as I watched my grandmother carry the load from the market on top of her head for the thirty minute walk from the market without any complaints. My mom was a working woman, and still found the time to raise me and take care of her family, without ever really taking a moment for herself. The strength that I was surrounded by would motivate me to be the best version of myself, and to work harder, despite any obstacles in my way.
In America, I began to my search for my personal definition of happiness and success. This would lead me on a tangled and bumpy journey in which I have finally been able to begin to unravel a small segment of. For a while I was pulled into the American Dream and the what-every-African-immigrant-parent-wants-for-their-children stereotype aiming to please my mom because, after all, every parent wants the best for their kids.
In my journey to escape this cocoon and the newly discovered stereotypes about black Americans living in Harlem, I discovered a program that would allow me to venture into a new chapter of my life and begin to experience the happiness I once sought. A Better Chance (ABC), drove me to experience new cultures, a new way of living, and different forms of thinking after living a life spent sheltered from reality in order to protect my innocence. ABC is a nonprofit organization that helps academically gifted young minorities get into private day schools and boarding schools. Another extension of ABC is the community school program, of which I am a member.
As I became an A Better Chance scholar, the transition from life in New York City to life in Guilford would be a difficult, yet empowering one. For the first few weeks of school, I felt like an outsider looking into a school that was predominantly Caucasian with many of the students in my school having already

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