Oct 25, 2021 Uncategorized

College Admission Essay assignment at an affordable cost


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I’ve been lied to all my life. By my parents. Teachers. The bright red font above my English Class’s white board. Moby from BrainPop. And even the fortune cookie I once got in last Friday Night’s Takeout from Howard Wang’s. It wasn’t until the day I learned to stand up for myself that I realized that contrary to what everyone had been telling me, there are, in fact, stupid questions.

Growing up, my curiosity to challenge the way conventional systems worked was a powerhouse machine. I didn’t understand why it was a tradition in my hometown to kill female babies with a fatal plant’s milk. I didn’t know why the world focused so much effort on large scare industrial output waste when smaller scale tech actually was the main source. Why humans distort their perception of time when the last execution in France was the same year Star Wars came out. Or why it was out of normalcy for a girl to win a debate tournament. Regardless of the situation, I’d swallow my words, hushing my voice for the comfort of others.

Room B115. Just on time. Surprised at the absence of a single other female, it took me a second to realize that no, I didn’t accidentally make my way into the National Boy Scouts Jamboree. Despite the fact, I marched proudly to the front and unloaded my mound of prep and sticky notes, loosely collated with binder clips and manila folders. “The front is for those who made semifinals,” a voice of a competitor from a long-standing program, an array of accomplishments succeeding his entry name on the national database. I knew who he was…everyone did. I, however, wasn’t expected by anyone there. A room congested with strategy, senators, and spit, words flew over my head as I could barely digest the fact that I was up against those talented competitors. Sweat dripped down my forehead, and as the heavy gavel slammed onto the mahogany table, I feared raising my placard.

I wasn’t asked for my opinion on the round’s agenda. I wasn’t included in mid-round discussions. I wasn’t being taken seriously. Although it shouldn’t have mattered that I was the only girl or that I didn’t come from a district that could send me to national circuit competitions every weekend, I felt out of place. My individuality defined and destroyed my experience.

I helplessly tried to fit in with the rest of the room, unable to realize that my differences shouldn’t be a reason that I couldn’t enjoy the activity that I love the most. How was it admissible for debate, an activity meant to give everyone a voice, have elitism and sexism quash its fundamental purpose? Internal thoughts racing through my mind, I silently resented, wearing conformity and not courage, because I was too afraid to speak up.

As the only female on my high school debate team’s executive council, even while serving as President my senior year, I became accustomed to feeling out of place. With the exclusion I experienced daily, I wouldn’t take pride in the fact that my own preparation and grit, not expensive private coaching, qualified me to upper-level rounds or that I was the first woman in my school’s history to head to the Capitol for UIL Congress.

On the bus ride home that night, I realized that I had enough. I understood that my experiences shouldn’t be unfortunate facts of life, where I helplessly try to comply with the standards of an “ideal debater,” but avenues for action and reform. Disheartened at how many students experience what I went through on a daily basis, within their own programs and circuits, I spent the next few months designing a program that would provide free coaching to students in under-resourced districts. I fostered a community of debaters that carry themselves with confidence and skill. Mini reflections of myself on ZOOM, from Texas, New Jersey, and Florida all the way to China and India, younger versions of myself eager to learn about speech and debate. They haven’t faced the divisive nature of upper-level debate, the elitism that exists within it, and the exclusion that can unknowingly persist from program to program. I hope they never do. This was my opportunity to voice my opinion on the disregarded complacency of activities that championed one idea, but presented another.

Silence may be the safest answer, but it’s never the best. My questions, about the inequalities of a system or questioning the way things were done, were never stupid. But heres one stupid question I’ll never ever ask again: Should I speak up? The answer is always yes.

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