My American Dream by Abraham

My American Dream by Abraham - August 2014 Scholarship Essay

The American dream. Now what exactly does it mean or does it pertain to? To me, the American dream is the fact that I was born in another country, not the United States, and I was able to succeed academically when I did not know one word of the English language. It is true that the U.S. is very diverse, but after all the language that is spoken the most is English. Now imagine confronting the American dream at the age of seven. Yes, seven years old, second grade elementary student with not one soul that could help you, or at least that is how I felt. The American dream is something that I believe I achieved because of my academics, but the falls and struggles along the way are what made me what I am today; an Undergraduate student at the University of Arizona.

Five F's and two A's. That is what my first second grade report card looked like. How could this have happened? Back in my home country I was used to never failing, or even being close to failing any subject. But here, in America, it was different. For one whole year I failed all of my subjects except for two; math and homework. Yes it is true that most of the time my homework was wrong, but what counted was that I never entered my classroom without my completed homework in my backpack. As to math, well there really is no explanation. Math does not have a language. Seeing each report card come in the mail was like another nail to my coffin as I felt that I would surely flunk second grade. But what troubled me the most was not that my classmates would point their finger at me and laugh once they saw me enter a second grade classroom again the following year. What really troubled me was that even though I tried as hard as I could, I would still fail. Those endless afternoons trying to figure out word for word what my homework said are still well awake in my memory. My mom with a dictionary and pencil in hand trying to translate what my worksheets. Hearing the other children from the neighborhood laughing and playing outside would just create an enormous feeling of anxiety inside of me to complete my homework as fast as possible so I could go outside to play but I could not. I just could not. A normal elementary child spends about an hour, maximum two working on their homework. But I, I would spend up to four hours every single week day trying to decipher my homework. Yes it was very stressful, but I never gave up an ounce of hope. I thought to myself, "If I flunk, I flunk, let it be what it has to be, but when I look back to all of this, I want to be able to say that I gave it my all. I do not want to regret anything, I do not want to think that I could of done something differently or something else that would of helped me pass."

Even though my grades said I was failing, every day that passed felt like improvement to me. Maybe it was that I learned a new word or that I learned the difference between Mr. and Mrs. when I called the school principal Mr. Barber, when in fact she was a woman. But everything that happened to me during my second grade year in elementary served as an experience. At the end of the year, I was told that I had improved enormously compared to how I first entered the school year, but I was still not ready for third grade. This struck me hard, but as I always had thought to myself, if it happens it happens, and everything happens for a reason. Some days passed and my mom received a telephone call from the principal of the school. The decision was made, and they informed my mother and I that I would be passing on to third grade. There was something about me that they saw, and they believed that holding me back, would be like tying me down and preventing me to explore what came next. They saw the desire to succeed in me, because even though I always got something wrong in my homework, or I miss pronounced a word, I would never stop trying. I did not let the fear of being judged stop me.

Third grade came and so did fourth and fifth and middle school and high school and the results were outstanding. Ever since my first Honor Roll in third grade, I loved the feeling that that diploma gave me. A feeling of satisfaction that completed me and made me go for more. Now all those struggles that I went through at such a young age are what shaped me. I am a hardworking college student seeking the best for my future, who always thinks about what is right as opposed to what is everybody else is doing. Now I am closer than ever to finalizing my American dream and if it weren't for those endless afternoons completing homework with a dictionary in hand translating word for word, I do not know if I would even be writing this essay to fund my University education.