¶Ever since I can remember, I have been blessed with the affliction of not fitting in. It wasn’t as miserable as it sounds; I was fairly well adjusted, had a motley crew of friends, and held a resilient hope for an even better future. Though perhaps a curse of my generation, video games brought me joy when feeling like a social outcast became too galling. Eventually, with the arrival of middle school came a constructive and creative outlet for the release of both my brewing passions and subtle indignation. I was seduced by the allure of a real, live subculture.
¶It all started with a small concert put on by my school district, showcasing local bands. From that point on, at barely thirteen years of age, I was hypnotized by the energy, passion, acceptance, and camaraderie among this newfound community. Local shows soon gave way to politically charged punk festivals, admiring kids my age engaged in poetry readings, forming new bands, booking our own shows, and cooking with the Santa Ana chapter of Food Not Bombs for my less fortunate neighbors. Through these experiences, I discovered a contagious drive that compelled me to, from then on, try new things, and increasingly apply scrutiny to just about every aspect of the dominant-, as well as sub-culture. It was nothing less than exhilarating to be surrounded by a multitude of ideas and concepts rather than the world of material objects and veiled assumptions that most people know as middle school. I knew already I was one of few teenagers that had the privilege of facing those trying years with this kinship of heterogeneous, yet endlessly supportive peers holding me together.
¶One occasion that forever altered my perspective was a voyage to Northern California to visit a handful of these peers. At the age of 16, I was lucky enough to spend a week with a couple dozen individuals somehow living a life contrary to everything western culture customarily regard as normal. The fact that these people, not much older than I, built their own houses or fixed up those long deserted, discovered various methods of eating for free, and still found time to give back to the community astonished me. They demonstrated for me the incredible capabilities of not only one community, but of all people on earth. The day before I headed back home, I recall riding along the Pacific Coast with one of these friends, Lindsey, each of us on borrowed bikes. The landscape was gorgeous that day, but all I could think about was what I was going to do when I got back home. Knowing the volume of possibilities, a fire had been lit inside me. It was my first encounter with a living and breathing experiment in modes of existence, and from it I began to understand that choice was the crux of human existence.
¶The trip encouraged me not to give up on the general society, but to take an active interest in the endless amount of options emanating from presumed human nature. It compelled me to become involved with the field of sociology to find out not only why certain peoples live and think the way they do, but understand what circumstances brought them to this point. On my return home, I became motivated to witness, and record, this myriad of human potential. From that point on, I knew that the study of human behavior was to be an integral part of my academic, as well as personal life.
UC prompt #2:
¶From a very early age, I have had an extraordinary urge to put myself in uncomfortable situations. It seems as if the more displeasure I gain from an experience, the more inclined I am to participate. One might consider this the result of growing up on the shy side of the fence, nevertheless determined to be the very opposite. I recall putting myself in emotionally and physically compromising positions in grade school, solely to perform my own social experiments with bullies and their victims. I learned a crucial lesson early in life; that most people have more in common than in contrast.
¶In high school, a small group of us became agitated with weekly demonstrations from military recruiters we considered unacceptable propagandists. A little Internet research indicated that under California Education Code, Sections 48907 and 48950, we were legally protected in handing out leaflets antithetical to these recruiters. We set up a folding table right beside theirs and did just that, armed with plenty of photocopied pamphlets critical of their propaganda, as well as forms for students to opt out on giving the military their contact information.
¶Looking back, the only way my timid self got through that informational rivalry was to keep my eyes pointed straight, at my fellow peers, rather than the glares of our adversaries in uniform. Once a week, I would put myself in a very unpleasant situation for the sake of rallying against a force I considered hostile.
¶Paying attention in class was always a chore for me, but somehow I forced myself to succeed. Through those often-difficult teenage years, my compulsion to constantly withdraw from my comfort zone kept me thinking critically and focused on being goal oriented. Soon enough, apprehensively volunteering to speak in class, red faced with sweaty palms, gave way to getting myself involved in rather arduous organizations, and before I knew it, I was organizing benefit shows and starting school clubs like Students for the Abolition of the Society of the Spectacle. This past year, I pushed myself to move to an unfamiliar city where I had but one friend and the outcome has been magnificent. Pushing my own limits helped me get there.
¶I have always found passion in debating, formally and otherwise, particularly when I could play devil’s advocate on the side I was least knowledgeable about. This self-imposed strenuousness was simply how I learned best. To this day, evading contentment for the sole purpose of pushing my own boundaries has done wonders for me, and without this highly beneficial impulse, I would not be the person I am today.
finally turned in and out of mind. my cat has one eye.
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