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As I became closer to the teachers and mothers, they began to share pieces of the children’s stories with me.These young children had suffered in ways that were foreign to me, a fifteen year old, who had thought herself so mature.
Now, well versed in the feeling of failure, I am also educated in perseverance and success.
I use these experiences to help those who come my way.
Alongside those, stacked neatly, are aerospace engineering papers, about plasma propulsion, pork chop plots, and Hohmann transfers.
They feature my fascinations with physical science and innovation for the future.
Here is the explanation for my desire to do more, learn more, and see more.
Use And Misuse Of Science And Technology Essay - School Pride Essays
My parents aided these passions, constantly introducing me to new cultures and new places.Countless college brochures, scribbled on with notes and reminders, complete the first half of this top shelf, and they are the present.\r\n\r\n Now, standing in the front of a bookcase, I find that I am completely content.I can see myself with a simple, yet comprehensive clarity, like staring into a mirror.I am able to connect with others easily because I am willing to share the trials I have faced, and the knowledge I have gained from them.\r\n\r\n Looking to the very top, Shelf Five waits patiently.It is partially filled with an assortment of articles from , all of which highlight my love for the political sciences, fostered by the debate team.I was well into my fourth month post injury, with no real signs of progress. That summer, it seemed unthinkable that either Jane or I could carry on with our lives after experiencing the horror of the red room.\r\n\r\n The most recent time I read , I was working at a center that provides temporary housing for homeless women and preschool education for their children.Reading made the pain almost indescribably worse, yet I couldn’t resist. There, I observed many kinds of metaphorical red rooms.On “brain rest” for a concussion, I had missed the last two months of school and reading was forbidden, so I hid in my closet, or sat outside in the sweltering DC heat where I knew no one would follow me.I hid the book under my bed for nighttime forays when I couldn’t sleep due to an almost constant migraine. I couldn’t understand how Jane was capable of moving on.The horror of it all piqued my curiosity: how would Jane survive the night?\r\n\r\n I read the second time, in secret, the summer after eighth grade.