Grade 10: Personal Statement
The first thought I had when writing this, was how on earth am I ever going to top last year’s personal statement?
For a few years now, I’ve been trying to come up with new and original concepts for doing my personal statement. In Grade 8, for example, I wrote a dystopian fictional short story looking back on all the events of the year (with the nostalgia that a 13-year-old should definitely not have any clue about). In Grade 9, I likened the many books I’d read over the years to events in my life, making awful attempts at dry humour (which was almost definitely me trying to cover up all of my gaping insecurities). It was probably one of the most ‘me’ things I’ve ever written.
And this year, the pressure was on to find something new and different to do. But to be honest, if last year’s personal statement was the truest to me my writing’s ever been, then why would I have to change that?
Why on earth do I feel this overwhelming pressure to try and top myself?
To be honest, I don’t think that any of the other ideas that I came up with would be as fitting as last year’s concept. And there’s something sweet about concept consistency, it allows the idea to mature and evolve over time, organically, just like the storyline and rising tension of Kokoro, by Natsume Soseki. It feels like you’re waiting, constantly, for something to happen, not realising that there’s something growing, and growing, and growing – and I feel that’s perfectly fitting when describing my year.
I’ve actually had one aspiration for over a year now! (I know, I can’t really believe it myself.) My aspirations have been growing (I really hope they continue to do so, while I sit there blissfully unaware). I still want to teach, preferably in university, and I want to be in the humanities field. As Grade-9 me so eloquently put it, ‘After all, with the amount of time I spend on ‘intellectual’ pursuits, being in a learning institution is a place I think I’ll be quite happy for a long period of time.”
And speaking of intellectual pursuits…
This year, I am very proud to announce that I was shortlisted for the 2020 Immerse Essay Competition (in Philosophy), therefore winning a partial scholarship to Cambridge University Summer School. Although the pandemic threw a spanner in the works (meaning I’m going to be attending the course next year), winning a scholarship gave me the self-esteem boost that I’ve needed for years. (Here’s the essay if you’d like to read it.)
Even though I know that I’ll be wrestling with my self-esteem for a very long time, hopefully I’ll emerge victorious from the seas like the Old Man from Hemingway’s famous novel (that I finally read). Future me, please look upon past me with kindness, and empathy, because past me looks at you with all the love and hope she possesses.
This year, I’ve also managed to win my National Youth Achievement Award (in Silver) as well as become Co-Chair of Ladakh GC, the current oldest GC at the school. However, I feel that these achievements are only meaningful because of the experiences they brought. Doing the Achievement Awards exposed me to the convalescents at Hougang Care Centre in Singapore, and in particular, the most sincere ‘Thank you’ I’ve ever experienced.
This ‘thank you’ was spoken to me only in my first few weeks of doing the service, and it was said while looking directly into my eyes. They took my hand, and spoke quietly, hushed, with such deep gratitude that I could even see it in the blackness of their pupils. I was speechless for a few moments. I had been so wrapped up in making sure that the activity was done well, and that they were engaged, barely acknowledging my own work and constantly doubting myself – but all that crumbled in a single moment at the sound of two words – ‘thank you’. I don’t even know if I can describe how much that moved me. They went out of their way to shake my hand and thank me, because I created a change. A change in the monotony, a change in what is ‘normal’. I tampered with Arundhati Roy’s Love Laws, just for a moment, and they thanked me for it.
And it is experiences like these that truly made my year. I was in Write for Rights again this year, and managed to fulfill my goal of 80 letters in 24 hours (I in fact wrote 85). This week of tiredness and a sore wrist gave someone, somewhere, a chance at a home, and it was so worth it. We even received a reply this year (even though it was slightly condescending), and that truly filled me with a sense of achievement.
This year, I’ve also gained a new interest, and a new area of expertise: Web Design! I’ve designed many websites now, and created countless resources for service groups at school to develop their portfolio websites. My own website (on which you’re probably reading this) is one of my crowning achievements, and is hand-made from scratch. I’ve also designed the HS Service Exec Site (the information database and all it’s pages specifically), as well as the Ladakh GC portfolio and the Fitness with Hougang Care Centre site.
And now, I finally move on to the most awaited part of my personal statement – and the ‘Most Impactful Book of the 2019-2020 School Year’ goes to…
(It’s absolutely no fun if you don’t drumroll)
‘Beloved’, by Toni Morrison.
Surprisingly, this wasn’t that difficult of a choice, despite all the other books I’ve read this year (runners up: Artist of the Floating World by Kazuo Ishiguro and All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque). It’s extremely hard to summarise how ‘Beloved’ made me feel, but almost throughout the entire thing I felt like my heart was being ripped from it’s veins, shredding into strips of bloodied flesh, and then stitched back together and shoved right back into my hands below the gaping, black hole in my chest. Once you started reading, the words seemed to suck you in and rearrange themselves into what Morrison was truly trying to say, grammar rules be damned. The strange rhythm of the words is lilting, lyrically and empathetically capturing the most grotesque and cruel part of our nature yet still maintaining to present the beauty of the resilience of the human spirit, and the hope and endurance we hold despite the pain and abuse inflicted by years of history.
And someday, in the future, maybe when I’m a professor in a university somewhere, I hope to read Beloved again, and have my heart taken away from me again.
That’s all from me this year. Thank you for reading.