Dear Friends,
This month’s Hard Taco song, “Fine Fine,” is a reimagining of our first date, though we changed all the circumstances and emotions of that encounter because reality was too embarrassing.
Speaking of revisionist history, I'm trying to help my son craft a winning Common App college essay. I know, I know... I shouldn't just write it for him. I should make him look up and replace a few of the adjectives with parent-approved synonyms. But this essay is such a winner, I can't, in good conscience, let him apply to college with even a single word changed.
From Puddles to Pillars: Six Legs, One Dream
When I was five, I rescued a ladybug from drowning in a vast puddle. That was the moment I realized I wanted to make the world a better place overall.
My mission trip to Mexico verified that this was not just a dream, but a passion, which the Oxford English Dictionary defines as “a strong and barely controllable emotion.” The diverse people I met in Cancun were among the poorest on earth. Many of them were elderly or injury-prone, but they were rich in other ways: culturally, spiritually, and in wisdom. I was part of a team that was instrumental in planning where to build a new well. Though our trip ended before we broke ground, we laid the PowerPoint foundations for a struggling community to acquire the freshest water that they had ever tasted. More importantly, we built bridges between two great cultures; Our lasting success could not be measured in pesos, not in cases of giardia prevented, but in smiles per hour. I write “we” instead of “I” because teamwork is instrumental to everything I value in my life. Or should I say, everything WE value in my life.
Regardless, I will never forget how the proud people of Cancun accepted me as one of their own after only one transformative week. Ahora soy cancunense. They taught me more about inclusion and resilience than any textbook ever could.
I was already primed for that lesson, because throughout my life, I faced more adversity than anyone can imagine, and found that each challenge made me stronger. In fifth grade, I twisted my ankle mere days before the biggest soccer game of my life. My parents’ jaws dropped in terror when the doctor gave us the news: it was a high ankle sprain, the kind that would leave me languishing on crutches for up to three straight weeks. I thought this was the end, but it was just the beginning. I was broken, but through resilience, I rebuilt myself stronger than ever. The next season, I was back on the field and had more assists than even I dreamed possible.
Speaking of dreams, I live in a diverse, multicultural world made possible by the dream of one great woman. My grandmother was a Polish immigrant, who gave up everything to move across three oceans and start a new life. (She did not come the fastest way.) It is through her recipes that I discovered who I really am. At grandma’s house, I eat pierogi. At school, I eat pizza. I am both, but neither. The Oxford English dictionary defines “balance” as “an even distribution of weight,” and that is how I feel about this culinary duality. With my left foot, I put half my weight on my love of pierogi, which represent the strange and pungent traditions of my forebears, infused with love and wisdom. With my right foot, I plant the other half of my weight firmly on pizza, representing my open-mindedness about the world of today. With this balance, I heartily treasure modern elements like the latest video games without losing my connection to those who came before me and paved the road with sweat and scabs so my sister and I could have chances they always lacked.
The last feature I think about when I consider my journey is how much I value originality. I don’t just think outside the box… I think outside the building where the box is stored. in fact, I don’t even acknowledge the box in the first place. When presented with a problem, I just approach it with intense creativity and turn the problem into an opportunity or even an asset. Examples available upon request.
Sometimes, when I lie awake at night, I think back to that fateful afternoon when the other kids were playing tag, but I was rescuing a struggling ladybug from a puddle. How did it feel when I placed it gently on a nearby leaf? I guess I’ll never know, because the highest form of service is to not expect gratitude, or even wonder about it. But just as a ladybug has six legs, I have a strong foundation on the six pillars that hold me up: passion, service, resilience, balance, pierogi, and originality.
