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Page 87 of my autobiography: a college scholarship essay
strivingartist3
#1 Posted : Friday, November 23, 2012 1:02:36 PM(UTC)
strivingartist3

Rank: New Next Stepper

Joined: 11/23/2012(UTC)
Posts: 1


Senior year is a babushka doll.
So are you picturing the doll? Good. Now prepare for this knowledge bomb. The outside is the alluring idea of senior year; it’s what the movies show you and what people tell you about. Stop. Take off the first piece, surprise it’s another doll, this one labeled “College”. Now the “College” piece entails the worries of finding a good college, applying to schools, worrying about tuition, and hoping for acceptance. Pop off the college piece. What!? Another piece? We are naming this one “Academics”. Basically now I’ m worrying with trying to keep up good grades so that I can go to another school and then there worry about getting good grades as well. Pop! Next piece entitled “Friends”. How can I create amazing memories with these amazing people and have an amazing year? Last piece is entitled “Me”. This piece deals with the worries of my impending adulthood, the tangibility of my future, and whether or not I should face reality and simplify my dreams. That’s senior year.
In all honesty I don’t feel like I was adequately prepared for the real world. No one ever told me that pursuing a career in the arts isn’t really supported. No one ever said that even smart kids pay tuition. No one ever said that there’s a chance of things not working out. I feel like it’s always been up to me to figure these things out. In elementary school I wanted to be a singer, until my voice surprisingly dropped. I wanted to be in the army, until I understood that the enemy shoots back. I wanted to be in the circus, until I realized that lions are dangerous. Being an adult scared the crap out of me because I was always fed the whole “If you believe that you can achieve then you will succeed” thing. I always thought that if I worked hard that I would make it to whatever college I wanted to …for free ( I know it sounds foolish).
High school provided a nice heaping plate of reality and I began to understand that my ideology was a bit naïve. I’m growing as an artist and I’m growing into a young adult. My work ethic has provided me with many opportunities, and I’ve discovered what I want to do with my life.
I feel like telling my parents or anyone that I was interested in an arts career was the equivalent of someone coming out of the closet. It’s like the same fear of rejection. It’s like when I came out as an aspiring artist, and then on top of that I was interested in film!? Their response was like when someone sings and you’re stunned into silence (not sure if it’s the good or bad kind either). Papa Bear was like, “You’ll be homeless!” Mama Bear responds with a, “What does Sound Design mean?” Long story short, after much research and long inspirational speeches, I finally got my parents on board. I want to pursue sound design, but now the fear is college.
College applications are overwhelming, and then on top of that I’m pretty sure I had some sort of teenage life crisis. A teenage life crisis, defined by me, is that moment when you realized that you’re an adult and that if you mess this up your life goes to the crapper. So on top of my mini crisis now I’m questioning my art abilities too! But as I put together my portfolio I was like a proud mama as I realized that I was talented, and that I would be okay.
That sort of satisfaction and understanding of self is what defines you as a senior. I’ve fought hard for three years to try and discover who I was. What I found was that I am a nonchalant, caring, talented (not to toot my own horn), artist; I’m also to my friends and unlicensed psychologist. I am excited to see what life holds for me after graduation, as I do my Tyra Banks and strut towards whatever my future has to offer.

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