personal statement

As I watched my mother rush to get the pot to boil some water with tears in her eyes, I found myself at the mercy of one of the many asthma attacks that presided over most of my childhood. Most of the houses around our neighborhood in Juarez, Mexico were composed of one large room with a stove, bed, something to sit on and no restroom, so getting to the steaming pot was only a few feet away. Desperately trying to grasp for air as I lay on the couch, I wanted relief not only for myself, but also for my loving mother. Understanding of what was causing the onset of my respiratory problems became a quest. I did not understand why I had a high temperature, why I had to breathe the mist of the vaporized water, or why I had to use an inhaler. However, I did understand that those things made me feel better, and without them I could not breathe properly. As I grew older, biology became my fascination because it helped me understand my illness and not feel quite so helpless in regards to my asthma.
Ignorance was a part of my life, but not by choice. I grew up in an area where education was limited. My role models relied on tradition and rumors instead of facts in order to solve problems. When I was seven, one of the neighbor's children picked up a used, dried-out condom from the park in front of my house.
He then proceeded to throw it at me while laughing hysterically as it landed on my shirt, and said, "You have AIDS!" I thought I was going to die. I asked my grandfather if a person could acquire AIDS from a condom landing on their shirt. He simply replied, "Yes." A month went by before I realized I was not dying. The stress and fear that haunted me was a result of ignorance. In effect, I was motivated to go down the path of knowledge, not ignorance.
While sixteen and in college, there were times when neither my parents nor I could afford my textbooks, and I had to study for my classes solely from lecture notes. Working two jobs was the solution to my financial problems. I was recommended and hired for a position as an attendant to Gregory, a 22-year- old male with cerebral palsy. After my experience with Gregory I realized that
I, too, had a disability by thinking of cerebral palsy as depressing and socially segregating. It takes a while to figure out that Greg is