A girl sits cross-legged on the floor surrounded by a disarray of crumpled papers, dirty tea mugs, and discarded socks. She absentmindedly bites her lip in concentration as she scribbles furiously on a yellow legal pad, breaking her focus only to run her fingers through her unkempt hair. She then turns and scowls at the laptop screen filled with important deadlines, lengthy application forms, and impending grown-up responsibilities. With loathing in her eyes she slams the lid shut and stares at the still largely unfinished to-do list. She stomps over to the bookshelf and heaves a mountain of heavy textbooks into her arms before slumping to the ground and responsibly resuming her task.
Several hours later, she suddenly sits up straight as the sound of the bedroom door down the hallway finally closing for the night reaches her ears. Throwing off the blanket draped Indian style around her shoulders she scampers to the door and, after furtively looking both ways, her footie-pajama clad figure disappears around the corner.
Two brown eyes twinkling with mischief peer into the dimly lit kitchen. Methodically, the girl opens cupboard after cupboard searching for some elusive hidden object. With a look of fierce determination she hoists herself up onto the counter, as to more effectively search the last and most lofty cabinet. She rifles through the contents of the shelves and emerges with a triumphant smirk and large bag of candy labeled "off limits until Halloween!"
She waltzes triumphantly back to her room, forbidden loot in hand, snickering gleefully at the two oblivious people asleep behind the other door. After kicking the now long forgotten clutter of schoolwork out of her way, she stashes her hoard behind her pillow, pops a Disney movie into the DVD player, and lovingly arranges her stuffed animals so they can also view the featured presentation. With a sock monkey under the crook of one arm and a pile of candy under the other she snuggles down to watch the film, her eyes welling up with tears of contentment and nostalgia as the familiar story of Lady and the Tramp begins to unfold on the screen. Slowly she begins to drift off, a very childlike seventeen-year-old fast asleep in a nest of illicit empty candy wrappers.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Friday, October 4, 2013
Personal Statement.
I was a troubled child to say the least. Outward appearances indicated an emotionally healthy high school freshman who received excellent grades and maintained positive relationships with her teachers and peers. Behind this glossy veneer, however, a completely different me existed. Years of suppressed resentment, anger, and insecurity manifested themselves in explosive outbursts, violent rage, and bouts of depression. My seemingly happy only child home became a toxic war zone and I was to blame. Eventually it became clear that an intervention of sorts was in order and I found myself on my way to a therapeutic wilderness survival program.
Upon arriving in the desert, I promptly recognized just how out of place I felt. Never before had I been so completely terrified, alone, and helpless. The girls that I learned I would be spending all of my time with had landed in the program for a colorful variety of transgressions, and I hastened to brand them "delinquents" and with an air of absurd superiority isolate myself from the group. My first memories after being dropped off in the wilderness and waking from the fog of sheer panic and disbelief are declaring the place a "sadistic Girl Scout camp" and being spit on by a llama which I then denounced as a "foul beast." I later learned that these pompous proclamations endeared me to my group-mates and would make for entertaining campfire conversation and impersonations for new arrivals.
I frantically wrote home begging to be "rescued". I adamantly insisted that I did not deserve to be deprived of basic luxuries nor had my behavior warranted such harsh conditions. When it became clear that my pleas were going to go unanswered I decided to adopt the strategy that worked so well in the other areas of my life. I had long ago determined that if I pretended to have it all together, my pretense would become my reality and everything would be okay. So I feigned contrition and submissively completed my curriculum. I methodically calculated a list of steps to help me get out of the program more quickly and do as little self-reflection as possible. I didn't yet understand that what I so desperately needed was a change of heart and no amount of scheming or evasion tactics could achieve that.
Spoiler alert: my evil plan didn't work, but that's not the end of my story.
Little by little I noticed a transformation occurring. Through a series of emotional discussions and confrontations my eyes were opened to the kinship I was developing with the other girls. Although we expressed our brokenness in different ways and came from very different family, socioeconomic, religious, and cultural backgrounds we formed a bond that is unlike anything I had ever experienced before. Those relationships introduced me to a level of diversity previously nonexistent in my private school bubble, heightened my sense of awareness, and taught me valuable lessons in tolerance and compassion. They quickly became the most deeply meaningful friendships of my life up to that point.
Once my assimilation into the desert culture was complete my entire perspective began to shift dramatically. My once despairing and negative attitude toward the situation gave way to tenacity and perseverance. The desert that I had initially seen as a dead, arid, prison became a beautiful source of energy and strength. I embraced the bi-weekly showers, program issued outfit, and rationed meals. I began to articulate my feelings constructively and eagerly honed my survival skills. I discovered my leadership potential by directing and motivating my companions in our daily tasks and grueling hikes. I was pleasantly surprised when I was asked to mentor a younger girl who needed help composing letters home and to encourage positive behavior in her as she was notorious for causing conflict and disruption within the group.
Forty-three days later, I was ready to venture back into the real world and rejoin society. Only then was I able to take responsibility for my actions, rebuild my family, and apologize to those I had wronged. I had left my life bitter and hostile and was finally able to return confident and renewed with a passion for service, leadership, and a strong desire to put into practice the lessons I had learned.
The rough desert terrain and primitive existence perfectly reflected my raw and untamed emotions. Although it was overwhelming I came to understand that I was exactly where I belonged in order to come to grips with the reality of what I was and who I wanted to be.
Upon arriving in the desert, I promptly recognized just how out of place I felt. Never before had I been so completely terrified, alone, and helpless. The girls that I learned I would be spending all of my time with had landed in the program for a colorful variety of transgressions, and I hastened to brand them "delinquents" and with an air of absurd superiority isolate myself from the group. My first memories after being dropped off in the wilderness and waking from the fog of sheer panic and disbelief are declaring the place a "sadistic Girl Scout camp" and being spit on by a llama which I then denounced as a "foul beast." I later learned that these pompous proclamations endeared me to my group-mates and would make for entertaining campfire conversation and impersonations for new arrivals.
I frantically wrote home begging to be "rescued". I adamantly insisted that I did not deserve to be deprived of basic luxuries nor had my behavior warranted such harsh conditions. When it became clear that my pleas were going to go unanswered I decided to adopt the strategy that worked so well in the other areas of my life. I had long ago determined that if I pretended to have it all together, my pretense would become my reality and everything would be okay. So I feigned contrition and submissively completed my curriculum. I methodically calculated a list of steps to help me get out of the program more quickly and do as little self-reflection as possible. I didn't yet understand that what I so desperately needed was a change of heart and no amount of scheming or evasion tactics could achieve that.
Spoiler alert: my evil plan didn't work, but that's not the end of my story.
Little by little I noticed a transformation occurring. Through a series of emotional discussions and confrontations my eyes were opened to the kinship I was developing with the other girls. Although we expressed our brokenness in different ways and came from very different family, socioeconomic, religious, and cultural backgrounds we formed a bond that is unlike anything I had ever experienced before. Those relationships introduced me to a level of diversity previously nonexistent in my private school bubble, heightened my sense of awareness, and taught me valuable lessons in tolerance and compassion. They quickly became the most deeply meaningful friendships of my life up to that point.
Once my assimilation into the desert culture was complete my entire perspective began to shift dramatically. My once despairing and negative attitude toward the situation gave way to tenacity and perseverance. The desert that I had initially seen as a dead, arid, prison became a beautiful source of energy and strength. I embraced the bi-weekly showers, program issued outfit, and rationed meals. I began to articulate my feelings constructively and eagerly honed my survival skills. I discovered my leadership potential by directing and motivating my companions in our daily tasks and grueling hikes. I was pleasantly surprised when I was asked to mentor a younger girl who needed help composing letters home and to encourage positive behavior in her as she was notorious for causing conflict and disruption within the group.
Forty-three days later, I was ready to venture back into the real world and rejoin society. Only then was I able to take responsibility for my actions, rebuild my family, and apologize to those I had wronged. I had left my life bitter and hostile and was finally able to return confident and renewed with a passion for service, leadership, and a strong desire to put into practice the lessons I had learned.
The rough desert terrain and primitive existence perfectly reflected my raw and untamed emotions. Although it was overwhelming I came to understand that I was exactly where I belonged in order to come to grips with the reality of what I was and who I wanted to be.
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