My feet are rooted to the ground, bounded by a history that has crossed seas and trekked miles to freedom, moldeding strong men and even stronger women. I hail from a city seen as a lost hope, but it was never much for people like me. I’m filled with silent rage and a heart so heavy it tends to spill over. I look too far into the future, often disconnected from the present.  I like to think that my future self will thank me, but sometimes I feel as if the cycle will continue. More changes, lead to more worries, and more planning, and less awareness of now. 

In some ways I’m conservative, in others I’m progressive, bordering on radical. Revolution is a second language to me and I become more fluent in it as time goes on. “No one of us can be free until everybody’s free.” I hold these words deeply and let them guide me. I’m aware of my place and my power, and it can at times push me into a corner. I can feel bold and capable one moment, and minute and powerless the next. 

My parents have made me wary and cautious. I’m always on edge, wanting to protect myself and others. I’m too familiar with loss, and having the rug slipped from under me. In these moments I feel like an open wound, exposed, tender, and in pain. There’s a ping of guilt in me, not being like everyone else my age, daring and free. But the truth is that the world scares me sometimes and that not everyone is used to that. 

Talking can be laborious, so much so I try to avoid it. Even in my art, and writing can be as fumbled as my speech. And yet, there’s so much more comfort and convoluted beauty in it all. Just as the world can be scary, it can equally be dull. When I can’t find livelihood in my surroundings, I have to create it myself. 

My world changes often and I often have to change with it. My ideals, morals, and relationships move and shift like phases of the moon, always there but never the same. Adapting can be exhaustive but the world changes too much for me to remain stagnant

My beginning days at Ohio State were quite overwhelming to say the
least. From my parents leaving to the large events with swarms of people, these few days still proved to be quite an exertion for me. Despite my discomfort and difficulty in interaction, its helped me come to terms with my limits and comfortability in certain social situations. Though I wasn’t able to overcome my anxieties of large groups, I was much better off in knowing how I should navigate those situations if confronted with them.

Within my first week of classes, I have been forced to confront the eventual problems I was bound to encounter. My very first paper assignment was a failure and was a huge blow to my esteem, as well as my first rejected job application. Throughout high school, I was often applauded as an immaculate student, awarded with “Most Likely to Succeed” and highly regarded by my teachers. However, these recent failures have humbled me very much and even made me regret the fact that I was placed on such a high pedestal as it kept me so far removed from the realities of failure. Now that I have failed, I’ve been able to accept my faults and push through them with a new set of eyes.

In spite of my exhaustion of socializing, I’ve gradually been able to better to find individuals and groups to interact with. My scholars programs, both Humanities Scholars and the Morrill Scholars Program have been a great source of connections, finding very like minded people I may not have been able to find in spaces back home. Upon arriving here, I immediately felt isolated as I came here not knowing anyone and it was a dreadful sense that lulled on with me for several days. But as of now, I feel much more secure in my current relationships and the ones that I hope curate in the eventual future.

I can already tell within the first several days of school that I will be going through rather radical changes both academic and personal. I’m proud of my quick adaption to these bumps and my willingness to work around them and hope it will set a trend for me to tackle any other issues in the future.

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