Bump in the Road

A “Bump in the Road”

Though at the time of experiencing it, it felt more like a pothole, my figurative “bump in the road” occurred during this past year.  A student’s junior year is always said to be the most difficult, but I had no idea what I was to encounter.  In the beginning of the year, I was hit with a very terrible and premature case of “senioritis,” a common “disease” among students that permeates all reason and induces the victim with bouts of laziness, repeated absences, and a generally dismissive attitude. 

Though I had vowed never to fall prey to it, I found that in time I was actually its greatest sufferer.  I didn’t do my homework.  I didn’t do my schoolwork.  I skipped school.  I was academically mischievous.  It was a first (and decidedly, after the experience, a last) for me.  I’ve always been at the top of my class and held myself to an incredible standard.  For some reason, however, I was slipping into habits of some of the students in my school labeled “super seniors”—students who’d failed to graduate for several years in a row; students whose decline I had witnessed myself. 

The only explanation I can offer for such poor behavior was the recent loss of my sister, my best friend, to the higher educational system several states away.  Though I understood that it was a rite of passage, and that I too was to leave the nest the year after the next, I had never been separated from her in all the sixteen years of my life for more than a few weeks at a time.  I never realized how completely dependent I was upon social interaction.  I was alone in my house until 8 P.M.  every evening, when my mother would arrive, tired from a long-day’s work and unable to spend much time apart from the piles of work brought home. 

I was used to a home filled with siblings, but the absence of such led me to seek comfort in regurgitated hobbies of my youth.  While it promoted the blossoming of my creative nature, my grades unfortunately suffered as a result.  My teachers, familiar with my siblings and my better side, became concerned with my performance.  I couldn’t stand it.  I couldn’t stand myself.  I was disgusted; never had I let myself sink so low. I was desperate. I was needy.  I let myself fall, hard, and it was a long way from my high horse to the ground, and for what? What had I gained by wasting all that time?

Within a couple of months, I bounced back from the mess.  My grades hadn’t suffered too terribly from the setback, and I had learned two important things.  Firstly, you’re only as lonely as you make yourself.  I didn’t have to be alone, I had options; I could’ve stayed after school, I could’ve spent time with friends, joined clubs, anything but sit in my room watching the time pass by.  Secondly, that no matter how bad things get, it’s necessary to keep your head in the game, to not let the hardships “get to you.”  Had I stayed focused and not let the year’s challenges overwhelm me, then maybe I would’ve avoided the miseries of “loneliness” and “failure.” 

I confess these things in hopes to build trust among this school and its faculty.  I would ask that you not hold them against me but rather see the benefits gained from such an experience.  I have acquired knowledge of how to cope and be understanding, something most of my peers have yet to learn.  I also find that being honest with my superiors, as well as my peers, is more important than making a false “good impression.”  Additionally, having already experienced the “trauma” of being separated from my family, I feel that the transition into a college environment will be easier on me, so my performance will not falter, as seems to be the case with most college freshmen.  While I know I still have much to learn and accomplish, I feel that having gotten past this “bump in the road” has made me a better candidate for your university than I would have been without it.