This year's prize was open to freshmen. More than 200 students responded to the following prompt:
"Write about a time when you felt that you made your own destiny. What steps did you take to shape your future? During the process, did you ever feel that forces other than your own will were controlling your fate? What were those forces, and how did you deal with them?"
Here's what Bianca wrote.
I wasn’t cut out for success. Kids like myself, who grew up in neighborhoods like mine, in houses with addict family members, who didn’t go farther than middle school, cigar-stained walls, roaches and rats creeping around the floors, just weren’t fit for happy endings. I was meant to fail. I was prepared to fail. Failure was in my DNA. That was my mindset. Where I came from determined how far I go, and at that rate I was going nowhere. Yet I stand today in the realization that that statement is not at all true. My father passed away when I was 4 years old, and I hold a resentment against his addiction every day. In my early years, my family didn’t even bother to take me to school. I would enter the classroom, and the students would ask if I had transferred, if I was sick, etcetera. They were appalled that I had even entered the room. I didn’t understand why they were so worried. I thought that my attendance was anything but abnormal. The police and paramedics constantly at my doorstep, no matter if it was 5 in the morning or 11 at night, just felt normal. I was always the last priority, and I began to make myself a last priority too. If they didn’t care about me, why should I care about myself? Because of this lack of attention at home, I did everything I could to make my peers like me. I spent my Christmas money buying gifts for girls who wanted nothing to do with me, because I was in desperate need of someone to listen to me and understand me. I needed a safe environment.
My efforts did not work, as I was bullied daily by students in my classes. No one ever got in trouble for what they did to me. At home, they put their addiction first, and at school, they put their pride first. The feeling of loss and loneliness became all too real and familiar. I don’t think I ever thought I had a destiny, let alone any control of it. A happy destiny was for the rich, the smart, and the pretty. I didn’t think I was cut out for a good fate. Eventually though, my family had a turn around. My mother got sober, and she, my grandmother, and I got a new house due to eviction from the prior one. This was around 3 years ago.
Now allow me to explain the moment in which I finally felt I had control of my destiny. I remember the moment very clearly. It was the best day of my life. It was a sunny day in July, which set the tone of the entire day. Moving day. We walked through the heavy white door and into our new house, and my mother showed me up the steep, auburn wooden steps to my new room. This room was not just my new room, it was the first bedroom I ever had to myself. The walls were a clean white color, and the floor was a grey rug. It had that new house smell, the smell of lavender Febreze and drywall. I used to go to friends’ houses and family members’ houses and see their bedrooms painted their favorite color, with television and posters of young Justin Bieber, and be so envious, because I either had to sleep on a couch in my living room or in my mother’s room and watch whatever pointless soap operas were on the small grey box TV. I was thankful to have a roof over my head then, but seeing the empty room filled with just a dark wood dresser reminded me that this was a new beginning for me and my family. I recall sitting on the soft rug floor with a friend of mine on the day we moved in. Her name is Charisma. Even though it was boiling hot in the room due to the not-yet-installed AC, we were organizing my belongings. I finally had something that belonged to me. This moment may seem small, but it made me realize something much bigger. It made me realize that although my past was messy, my future did not have to be. I realized that one day, not just this room, but all that I owned would belong to me, and I had to work harder for myself. This small insignificant moment made me realize that one day I could achieve independence and make this family, who once had nothing, something. I wanted to be a role model. I wanted to be the first in my family to achieve what had never been achieved, and this moment made me realize it was possible.
After that moment, I realized that the effort I put in would produce similar results. I studied for hours a night and produced grades of A’s and the occasional B. I apprentice in cosmetology on the side, and got my worker’s permit at 14 and immediately got a job in a café, which allowed me to help provide for my family and my personal needs. I have been provided with opportunities to go out of state due to my academic achievements, and I am proud of myself. My pride is not out of vanity or selfishness. It’s solely based on the fact that I never thought a child like myself could be anything, and now I am doing everything most kids my age do not have the motivation to do. What I have taken away from that moment is that where you come from only strengthens you. Use your struggle and transform it into power, and weakness into ability. I didn’t have to lead the life my family did. This moment allowed me to do and realize amazing things, and I am forever grateful for this house because it is not only a structure but a testimony as well.
"Write about a time when you felt that you made your own destiny. What steps did you take to shape your future? During the process, did you ever feel that forces other than your own will were controlling your fate? What were those forces, and how did you deal with them?"
Here's what Bianca wrote.
I wasn’t cut out for success. Kids like myself, who grew up in neighborhoods like mine, in houses with addict family members, who didn’t go farther than middle school, cigar-stained walls, roaches and rats creeping around the floors, just weren’t fit for happy endings. I was meant to fail. I was prepared to fail. Failure was in my DNA. That was my mindset. Where I came from determined how far I go, and at that rate I was going nowhere. Yet I stand today in the realization that that statement is not at all true. My father passed away when I was 4 years old, and I hold a resentment against his addiction every day. In my early years, my family didn’t even bother to take me to school. I would enter the classroom, and the students would ask if I had transferred, if I was sick, etcetera. They were appalled that I had even entered the room. I didn’t understand why they were so worried. I thought that my attendance was anything but abnormal. The police and paramedics constantly at my doorstep, no matter if it was 5 in the morning or 11 at night, just felt normal. I was always the last priority, and I began to make myself a last priority too. If they didn’t care about me, why should I care about myself? Because of this lack of attention at home, I did everything I could to make my peers like me. I spent my Christmas money buying gifts for girls who wanted nothing to do with me, because I was in desperate need of someone to listen to me and understand me. I needed a safe environment.
My efforts did not work, as I was bullied daily by students in my classes. No one ever got in trouble for what they did to me. At home, they put their addiction first, and at school, they put their pride first. The feeling of loss and loneliness became all too real and familiar. I don’t think I ever thought I had a destiny, let alone any control of it. A happy destiny was for the rich, the smart, and the pretty. I didn’t think I was cut out for a good fate. Eventually though, my family had a turn around. My mother got sober, and she, my grandmother, and I got a new house due to eviction from the prior one. This was around 3 years ago.
Now allow me to explain the moment in which I finally felt I had control of my destiny. I remember the moment very clearly. It was the best day of my life. It was a sunny day in July, which set the tone of the entire day. Moving day. We walked through the heavy white door and into our new house, and my mother showed me up the steep, auburn wooden steps to my new room. This room was not just my new room, it was the first bedroom I ever had to myself. The walls were a clean white color, and the floor was a grey rug. It had that new house smell, the smell of lavender Febreze and drywall. I used to go to friends’ houses and family members’ houses and see their bedrooms painted their favorite color, with television and posters of young Justin Bieber, and be so envious, because I either had to sleep on a couch in my living room or in my mother’s room and watch whatever pointless soap operas were on the small grey box TV. I was thankful to have a roof over my head then, but seeing the empty room filled with just a dark wood dresser reminded me that this was a new beginning for me and my family. I recall sitting on the soft rug floor with a friend of mine on the day we moved in. Her name is Charisma. Even though it was boiling hot in the room due to the not-yet-installed AC, we were organizing my belongings. I finally had something that belonged to me. This moment may seem small, but it made me realize something much bigger. It made me realize that although my past was messy, my future did not have to be. I realized that one day, not just this room, but all that I owned would belong to me, and I had to work harder for myself. This small insignificant moment made me realize that one day I could achieve independence and make this family, who once had nothing, something. I wanted to be a role model. I wanted to be the first in my family to achieve what had never been achieved, and this moment made me realize it was possible.
After that moment, I realized that the effort I put in would produce similar results. I studied for hours a night and produced grades of A’s and the occasional B. I apprentice in cosmetology on the side, and got my worker’s permit at 14 and immediately got a job in a café, which allowed me to help provide for my family and my personal needs. I have been provided with opportunities to go out of state due to my academic achievements, and I am proud of myself. My pride is not out of vanity or selfishness. It’s solely based on the fact that I never thought a child like myself could be anything, and now I am doing everything most kids my age do not have the motivation to do. What I have taken away from that moment is that where you come from only strengthens you. Use your struggle and transform it into power, and weakness into ability. I didn’t have to lead the life my family did. This moment allowed me to do and realize amazing things, and I am forever grateful for this house because it is not only a structure but a testimony as well.
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