Draft 3 of my USC Essay: A Work In Progress
May 7th, 2010- This is a day that embedded itself into my history, a day I will never forget. This is the day a tornado hit Sacramento, California. It touched down ripping through everything I had built my life on. It blew nonchalantly wrecking thirteen years of everything I knew to be true. Essays, SAT scores, my AP Government homework, pom poms, prom posters all whipping through the air, and I could do was watch. It left nothing but devastation, rejection, and insecurity in its path. For miles around the horizon was bleak and desolate. Breathing, walking, speaking, every bodily function seemed to have failed me. My heart felt as if it had stopped mid beat. I stood frozen as the eye of the storm glared intensely down at me. My feet were an extension of the earth. Rooted as they were, the force of the tornado was stronger. Inch by inch I rose above the earth. It pulled me higher and higher until I was slammed every which way. Any attempt at controlling my body was futile. My muscles fell victim to the whim of the winds. Some people describe falling as euphoric and freeing , but I didn’t fall. I was pushed, ejected from a realm of chaos. Even a disaster didn’t think I was worthy of being a part of its world. I landed on the earth with a dull thud. It was cold, hard, dirty, but at least it was solid. It was something real. I tunneled my fingers deep within it. It left thick lines of dirt under my fingernails, but I didn’t care. It wasn’t filth to me. It was evidence that I had been somewhere, proof that for once in my life I could hold onto something. When I mustered up the strength to sit up, things became clear. I was certainly not in Kansas, but I definitely wasn’t in Natomas either.
I waited every day for another letter to come in the mail, and each time one came, it was a rejection. Each school had their own form of bland disconnected rejection, but they all carried the same message, you just aren’t good enough, and everything you did was a waste.
There are cracks in my yellow brick road. There are potholes and flying monkeys carrying bad grades, but I’ve never stopped walking on this path to where I want to be. I have the brains, the courage, and the heart of a Trojan to help carry me forward. Cardinal blood runs through my veins as a sign that I am alive. No longer am I another academic zombie going through life solely for As and extra credit. I seek knowledge, passion, and vigor for life. If home is where the heart is, then my home is at USC. After all, there’s no place like USC.
