What Is The True Purpose Of College?

What Is The True Purpose Of College? Meanwhile, Isaac dauntlessly wrestled with earthworms twice his size. Even when he was sick, he continued to swim and climb, all despite the infection. As the lesson progressed, Natalie became more fitful; she refused to release her feathered friend, and kept addressing the bird for help with difficult problems. I emailed a couple more labs with less deliberation and more conviction, but was told that my ambitions to study TTX was a project best-suited for a postdoc, not a high schooler. Despite the results, I wasn’t discouraged; I was proud of myself for stretching my limits. The professors’ answers didn’t indicate failure, but rather motivated me to try again in the future. I brought the subject up again, this time mentioning the specific subfield of cryo-electron microscopy. I was born with a speech impediment that weakened my mouth muscles. I tried my best to blend in and give the impression I was silent by choice. I joined no clubs in primary school, instead preferring isolation. It took six years of tongue twisters and complicated mouth contortions in special education classes for me to produce the forty-four sounds of the English language. But then, I sat in on a debate team practice and was instantly hooked. I was captivated by how confidently the debaters spoke and how easily they commanded attention. I was sick of how confining my quiet nature had become. For better or for worse, I decided to finally make my voice heard. In discussions, I put forward my ideas with every bit as much conviction as my classmates. When seniors began to ask me for advice and teachers recruited me to teach underclassmen, I discovered not only that I had been heard, but that others wanted to listen. At heart, I am still reserved , but in finding my voice, I found a strength I could only dream of when I stood in silence so many years ago. Scanning the school club packet, I searched for my place. Determined to tame this wryly, wiggling student, I stood my ground, set on converting this disobedient child to my calm, measured ways of study. Armed with a red pen, I slowly walked across the room to a small, isolated table with pink stools. Honestly though, the best part about a hot shower is neither its medicinal abilities nor its blissful temporary isolation or even the heavenly warmth seeped deep into my bones. The best part is that these little moments of pure, uninhibited contentedness are a daily occurrence. No matter how stressful the day, showers ensure I always have something to look forward to. It’s a chance to add depth to something that is important to you and tell the admissions committee more about your background or goals. Test scores only tell part of your story, and we want to know more than just how well you work. Headaches magically disappear as long as the water runs, though they typically return in full force afterward. The runny nose and itchy eyes courtesy of summertime allergies recede. Showers alleviate even the stomachache from a guacamole-induced lack of self-control. Surprised by my knowledge, he offered his lab to me for a simpler project if I was interested, but ultimately admitted that the scope of the goal was much too ambitious. I didn’t run for a student council position because I thought the competition was too fierce. I didn’t join robotics because I felt the learning curve was too high. They are small moments, true, but important nonetheless, because it is the little things in life that matter; the big moments are too rare, too fleeting to make anyone truly happy. Wherever I am in the world, whatever fate chooses to throw at me, I know I can always find my peace at the end of the day behind the shower curtain. Showers are better than any ibuprofen, the perfect panacea for life’s daily ailments.