Fnet = m(A+)He barely looked me in the eye as he sat hunched over his desk, looking embarrassed. Nervous hands tapped a jittery rhythm on the surface. He was only here because Mr. L had made him – or, rather, had “strongly suggested” it. But everyone knew what it meant when the teacher of a class you were failing “strongly suggested” something...
I hold a stainless steel sphere in the palm of my hand: the lines and shapes of the world bend in its reflection. The sphere shifts between my fingers, heavy, carrying both seemingly untamable art and complex mathematics. I ponder not only the beautifully rendered drawing I could trace out of the depths of this sphere, but also the formulas required to reconstruct the original scene from the warped reflection...
{What book inspired you and why?}
In Chinua Achebe’s novel, Things Fall Apart, Obierika mournfully remarked, “He has put a knife on the things that held us together and we have fallen apart.” Obierika noted the remarkable sadness that ensued from the white men’s colonial ventures into the heart of the Lower Nigerian villages. Indeed, this quote sparks a revelation for all of mankind...
My commitment to volunteering for the Greenville County Hospital System has truly made me proud, and my hard work is made worthwhile in the smiles of patients and staff workers who appreciate the extra help. Through my active involvement volunteering at the most vital center of any community—the hospital—I’m able to benefit the people in my community through the joy that I bring regarding my ever persistent enthusiasm, sincerity, optimism, and even piano-playing...
“Ehmahgawd. You’re, like, the modern-day Billy Elliot. Am I right, or am I right?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I am not Billy Elliot. I am not a prepubescent, troubled British boy living in an era of financial turmoil, mining strikes, and Maggie Thatcher. My mother did not die when I was a toddler; my father and brother did not push me into boxing; I did not fight for a spot at the Royal Ballet School of London...
As a volunteer at Mather Pavilion—a residence for elderly Alzheimer’s patients—I had many conversations with one of the residents, Dr. Thorne. He would regularly ask me about my undergraduate studies at Northwestern and if I was planning on attending medical school. And, often, he would enumerate the difficulties of medicine and the rewards of being a doctor...
I see the next four years of my life as a blank book. All that is definite is the prologue and the author. The book will get written, but there will be many drafts, ripped out pages, and obstacles. I don’t have a plan, but some ideas. There is no final destination, but a direction. I hope for there to be a surprise on every page, a few irrelevant tangents, and minor setbacks...
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