Song of Solomon
Well-Known Member
- Credits
- 350
QUOTE From stationing in numerous U.S. naval bases throughout America and working directly
alongside hundreds of highly motivated young adults during the past few years, it has come to
my attention that brilliance is not at all scarce in this country we affectionately call, The United
States of America. There are plenty of students out there who are much more intelligent and
talented than I’ve ever been, and thus probably deserve this award much more than I do.
However, despite our various academics and talents, I have also realized that we, these brilliant
people and I, all share one universal trait, a trait that gives meaning in everything we do and have
ever done. We have dreams.
Prior to my enlistment in the United States Naval Sea Cadet Corps program in September
2006, I was a shy, timid boy who hid from the rest of the world. I had no motivation whatsoever
and half-heartedly kept up with my grades only so that my parents would be happy. After
finding out about the program, I decided to enlist in the United States Naval Sea Cadet Corps,
which will later prove to have been one of the greatest decisions of my life. Upon entering the
Corps, I was sent straight to Winter Recruit Training Camp (otherwise dreadfully known as
“Boot Campâ€). I was stripped of my dignity, shaved completely bald, and thrown in a grueling
two weeks of absolute hell. Nevertheless, I pulled through it and in the course of two years, I’ve
promoted to the rank of Petty Officer 3rd Class, attained the position of Color Guard Commander
in the Coral Sea Division, enrolled in numerous prestigious trainings, and even gained a
reputation of being one of the most squared away individuals among my peers. Never before
had I more reason to call myself a man. I became a fighter with an unbreakable spirit, motivated
and determined beyond all odds. But what was I fighting for? What could I fight for?
It was the week I spent at Balboa Naval Hospital in San Diego, California during Surgical
Technician Training. My peers and I were taught on the basics of general surgery and spent
eight days dissecting various animal organs. Come the last day of the training, we were permitted to observe live operations in the Operation Room. I remember the day quite clearly. Once I was placed in a room, I soon discovered that our patient, at age 62, was having his appendix removed (quite a rare operation for people his age). Although he was mostly covered, I managed to catch a glimpse of the patient’s face. He was a white-haired Caucasian man with a strong face, wrinkled with age but nonetheless strong. I took great interest in the patient, fascinated even. During surgery, you see human life as it truly is: delicate and fragile; something that should be treated with the utmost care and respect. Regretfully, my party and I were forced to leave before the operation was finished. It wasn’t until later that afternoon that I found out that the old man had passed away during the operation, for reasons which were not disclosed to me. That same day, the surgeon who had operated on the old man appeared in the waiting room and, with a sorrowful face, called in two women, whom I assumed to be the old man’s wife and daughter. Moments later, the women reappeared with tear-stained faces and within seconds, burst into tears and grieved for the death of their loved one. In that one moment, I felt so helpless. Fighting back tears of my own, I felt as if my own father had passed away that very instant. Question and doubt surged throughout my mind. Why couldn’t I do something? I’m a fighter now aren’t I? Why aren’t I doing something then? What can these hands possibly do to make a difference? I
left the hospital the next day with a mind filled with more thought than ever. That old man helped me realize what I needed to do with my life. He gave me the dreams which fuel the very motivation that drives my soul. That old man gave me something to fight for, a passion I could finally call my own. As of today, I only regret that I never found out his name.
My dream is to make a difference with these hands, to save lives with these hands which
God Almighty has given me. I wish to fight alongside others in their darkest hours; to instill
hope in those who look to give up. I wish to serve humanity; to fight for others, so that they may
live and fight for their dreams. By taking up the career of a surgeon, I will be able to accomplish
these dreams and even much more. In everything I do, I do in pursuit of these dreams. Even by filling out this very application, I expect to have gotten a step closer to my dreams, despite whether I am chosen or not. With this objective secure deep in my heart, I will continue to fight so that I may someday call these dreams a reality. I sincerely thank you for your time and undivided attention.
With all due respect,
Alan V. Bui
Californian Dreamer
I wrote this essay originally for my counselor in a contest for scholar of the week, but I thought it turned out to glorify my achievements soo well that I decided to enter it into numerous scholarships and use it as my essay for the UC application!
I am listed here as one of the honorable mentions
Didn't make first place
but the girl who got first truly deserved it, you'll see what I mean when you read her entry.
alongside hundreds of highly motivated young adults during the past few years, it has come to
my attention that brilliance is not at all scarce in this country we affectionately call, The United
States of America. There are plenty of students out there who are much more intelligent and
talented than I’ve ever been, and thus probably deserve this award much more than I do.
However, despite our various academics and talents, I have also realized that we, these brilliant
people and I, all share one universal trait, a trait that gives meaning in everything we do and have
ever done. We have dreams.
Prior to my enlistment in the United States Naval Sea Cadet Corps program in September
2006, I was a shy, timid boy who hid from the rest of the world. I had no motivation whatsoever
and half-heartedly kept up with my grades only so that my parents would be happy. After
finding out about the program, I decided to enlist in the United States Naval Sea Cadet Corps,
which will later prove to have been one of the greatest decisions of my life. Upon entering the
Corps, I was sent straight to Winter Recruit Training Camp (otherwise dreadfully known as
“Boot Campâ€). I was stripped of my dignity, shaved completely bald, and thrown in a grueling
two weeks of absolute hell. Nevertheless, I pulled through it and in the course of two years, I’ve
promoted to the rank of Petty Officer 3rd Class, attained the position of Color Guard Commander
in the Coral Sea Division, enrolled in numerous prestigious trainings, and even gained a
reputation of being one of the most squared away individuals among my peers. Never before
had I more reason to call myself a man. I became a fighter with an unbreakable spirit, motivated
and determined beyond all odds. But what was I fighting for? What could I fight for?
It was the week I spent at Balboa Naval Hospital in San Diego, California during Surgical
Technician Training. My peers and I were taught on the basics of general surgery and spent
eight days dissecting various animal organs. Come the last day of the training, we were permitted to observe live operations in the Operation Room. I remember the day quite clearly. Once I was placed in a room, I soon discovered that our patient, at age 62, was having his appendix removed (quite a rare operation for people his age). Although he was mostly covered, I managed to catch a glimpse of the patient’s face. He was a white-haired Caucasian man with a strong face, wrinkled with age but nonetheless strong. I took great interest in the patient, fascinated even. During surgery, you see human life as it truly is: delicate and fragile; something that should be treated with the utmost care and respect. Regretfully, my party and I were forced to leave before the operation was finished. It wasn’t until later that afternoon that I found out that the old man had passed away during the operation, for reasons which were not disclosed to me. That same day, the surgeon who had operated on the old man appeared in the waiting room and, with a sorrowful face, called in two women, whom I assumed to be the old man’s wife and daughter. Moments later, the women reappeared with tear-stained faces and within seconds, burst into tears and grieved for the death of their loved one. In that one moment, I felt so helpless. Fighting back tears of my own, I felt as if my own father had passed away that very instant. Question and doubt surged throughout my mind. Why couldn’t I do something? I’m a fighter now aren’t I? Why aren’t I doing something then? What can these hands possibly do to make a difference? I
left the hospital the next day with a mind filled with more thought than ever. That old man helped me realize what I needed to do with my life. He gave me the dreams which fuel the very motivation that drives my soul. That old man gave me something to fight for, a passion I could finally call my own. As of today, I only regret that I never found out his name.
My dream is to make a difference with these hands, to save lives with these hands which
God Almighty has given me. I wish to fight alongside others in their darkest hours; to instill
hope in those who look to give up. I wish to serve humanity; to fight for others, so that they may
live and fight for their dreams. By taking up the career of a surgeon, I will be able to accomplish
these dreams and even much more. In everything I do, I do in pursuit of these dreams. Even by filling out this very application, I expect to have gotten a step closer to my dreams, despite whether I am chosen or not. With this objective secure deep in my heart, I will continue to fight so that I may someday call these dreams a reality. I sincerely thank you for your time and undivided attention.
With all due respect,
Alan V. Bui
Californian Dreamer
I wrote this essay originally for my counselor in a contest for scholar of the week, but I thought it turned out to glorify my achievements soo well that I decided to enter it into numerous scholarships and use it as my essay for the UC application!
I am listed here as one of the honorable mentions
Didn't make first place