I strap on my dad’s old bicycle helmet and dig my fingers into the cotton candy coat of fur. I wrap my legs firmly around the belly of the sheep and wait for the gate to fling open. I look through the gaps in the pen to find my dad eagerly waiting in the arena to watch his cowboy son be whipped around by a sheep twice his size. “Mutton Bustin,” we called it. This is the closest an eight-year old can get to crashing action in a small town mega-event, the Coleman County Rodeo. The rodeo clown throws the gate open, and the sheep – ferociously – tears through the arena. I endure volleys of bucks and kicks while fighting to keep dirt out of my eyes. The sheep eventually musters up enough force to catapult me from its back, and onto the dirt. I roll over to see my dad beaming at me. I won the belt buckle, along with my father’s pride. From this experience I learned to give my best and never quit. I know that I will take my competitive spirit and unwavering effort to my university studies.

Both of my parents, Michael and Rebecca were raised in a children’s home in Fort Worth, Texas. In spite of their status as orphans, my parents beat the odds and found success. They were both granted academic scholarships, and completed their degrees without a traditional support system. My father graduated from Texas A&M (1992) with a degree in human physiology, and he began his career as an E.R. physician. My mother studied nursing and became a RN. They turned their passion of helping others into their vocation, and perhaps, they are honoring the altruism of those kind souls who raised them. Following their lead, I choose to serve others as a medical doctor.

 I spent many, many hours with Dad in the hospital, following him on his rounds. For my dad, it seemed his job was more of a calling than a grind. I admire him for the passion he exudes in his work, and at an early age, I planned to follow in his footsteps. Despite having grown up in relatively affluent circumstances, I know that without their guidance and support, I would not be prepared or motivated to study medicine. I have grown up in the presence of many positive people. Following my father – Dr. Bailey – step after step has led me to pursue the same honorable vocation. 

I thank God every day for my family. My mom, Rebecca taught me some of my most important lessons in life. She taught me that one can be tough, but empathetic. She exemplifies grace under pressure while putting the needs of her loved ones at the fore. I will forever strive to attain the drive and confidence that I was shown. My parents were not given very much, only what the hospitable people of the Masonic Home and School could offer them. My parents are the ideal role models for academics and interpersonal compassion, and I intend to perpetuate their graciousness in my work going forward. Furthermore, my parent’s ambition has long been instilled in my very being, as if it were genetically imprinted. I suspect that one’s family can determine the extent of one’s success. 

 Some students worry moving away from home to study at college, as a solitary and possibly, traumatizing experience. I pray that you will find that I am motivated, capable, and empathetic individual who will add value to the Texas A&M University community. I am sure that I will perform at the highest level, academically and socially while adding to the world-class reputation of the Aggie Nation. 

The sixteen month journey of my nephew’s early life, was spent eagerly waiting for him to take his first steps of many, on the long road of life. The day was fast approaching, when he would stand on his own and begin his plod. On November 28th 2015, Kai, with the help of the living room coffee table, brought his feet under him and balanced himself. His weight shifted forward and his leg raised slightly, in an attempt to repeat the movements he has seen. I watched in awe with and cheered him on hoping he would continue his first walk. Then, my brother – Brandon – did something disconcerting. In a reflexive scramble, he lunged for his cell phone to record his son’s very first steps. Although the act was seemingly innocuous, I had a hard time processing my brother’s instinctive dependence on technology to document the event. I would have a hard time convincing myself that watching my son’s first steps on the screen of my cell phone was as genuine an experience as staying in the moment with Kai. Technologically documenting your child’s milestones, as if they could be easily forgotten, symbolizes our collective surrender to corporate greed, driven social media, the retooled “industrial complex.”

I find myself barely treading water in a world of disconnected people, up to their neck in the frenzy of social buzz. I see my friends and family watch their life happen through their camera lenses, hypnotized by virtual reality. In this day and age, I count myself as a contrarian, focused on the pursuit of analogue reality. Fortunately, I am not bound by the media-set standards, and I allow myself to explore the rawest and most pure version of myself. I am thankful for life on life’s terms. I feel unobligated to share every moment with others. I often find myself daydreaming about places I have been and places I want to go. When I am in a “picture perfect” scene, I am able to appreciate it without distraction. I discover moments where the scene is so beautiful, I am unable to take my eyes off of it. These visions of beauty and peace are riveted in my mind; these memories will last forever.

 I was lucky enough to tour Italy with a group of classmates, and a good friend, Coach Hayes. The city of Rome was as exquisite as advertised. The tops of hundreds of churches dotted the skyline. The infamous Colosseum stood defiantly and majestically, bustling with tourists pulled like a magnet to it. And in Pompeii, Mount Vesuvius lorded over the clouds, shrouding its petrified tombs. Houses with ancient paintings and countless artifacts, and ashy human remains radiate for a version hyperrealism that tops any video game. I witnessed these antiquities in awe. To my mom’s dismay, I returned from the trip with few pictures, but loads of memories. The pictures I did take were great, but the experience and memories are unparalleled. 

In Timber Creek High School, I have learned many to read critically, write clearly, and to locate geographical locations around the world. Not surprisingly, I never had the chance to be enrolled in a class that taught gratitude. For me, being thankful for my blessings has become a lifestyle choice. This attitude enhances open-mindedness and allows for a broadened understanding of other’s ideas. People are more in tune to taking videos and pictures of their every waking-moment, rather than soaking up the rays of sunshine on tap nearly every day. People are bound by their technology and fail to be themselves in social situations. The gratefulness one can learn from setting one’s phone aside is freedom. I liberate myself from the strictures of our internet society, and plan to become a part of the enriched culture of real academic and social interaction in College Station.

I strap on my dad’s old bicycle helmet and dig my fingers into the cotton candy coat of fur. I wrap my legs firmly around the belly of the sheep and wait for the gate to fling open. I look through the gaps in the pen to find my dad eagerly waiting in the arena to watch his cowboy son be whipped around by a sheep twice his size. “Mutton Bustin,” we called it. This is the closest an eight-year old can get to crashing action in a small town mega-event, the Coleman County Rodeo. The rodeo clown throws the gate open, and the sheep – ferociously – tears through the arena. I endure volleys of bucks and kicks while fighting to keep dirt out of my eyes. The sheep eventually musters up enough force to catapult me from its back, and onto the dirt. I roll over to see my dad beaming at me. I won the belt buckle, along with my father’s pride. From this experience I learned to give my best and never quit. I know that I will take my competitive spirit and unwavering effort to my university studies.

Both of my parents, Michael and Rebecca were raised in a children’s home in Fort Worth, Texas. In spite of their status as orphans, my parents beat the odds and found success. They were both granted academic scholarships, and completed their degrees without a traditional support system. My father graduated from Texas A&M (1992) with a degree in human physiology, and he began his career as an E.R. physician. My mother studied nursing and became a RN. They turned their passion of helping others into their vocation, and perhaps, they are honoring the altruism of those kind souls who raised them. Following their lead, I choose to serve others as a medical doctor.

 I spent many, many hours with Dad in the hospital, following him on his rounds. For my dad, it seemed his job was more of a calling than a grind. I admire him for the passion he exudes in his work, and at an early age, I planned to follow in his footsteps. Despite having grown up in relatively affluent circumstances, I know that without their guidance and support, I would not be prepared or motivated to study medicine. I have grown up in the presence of many positive people. Following my father – Dr. Bailey – step after step has led me to pursue the same honorable vocation. 

I thank God every day for my family. My mom, Rebecca taught me some of my most important lessons in life. She taught me that one can be tough, but empathetic. She exemplifies grace under pressure while putting the needs of her loved ones at the fore. I will forever strive to attain the drive and confidence that I was shown. My parents were not given very much, only what the hospitable people of the Masonic Home and School could offer them. My parents are the ideal role models for academics and interpersonal compassion, and I intend to perpetuate their graciousness in my work going forward. Furthermore, my parent’s ambition has long been instilled in my very being, as if it were genetically imprinted. I suspect that one’s family can determine the extent of one’s success. 

 Some students worry moving away from home to study at college, as a solitary and possibly, traumatizing experience. I pray that you will find that I am motivated, capable, and empathetic individual who will add value to the Texas A&M University community. I am sure that I will perform at the highest level, academically and socially while adding to the world-class reputation of the Aggie Nation. 

The sixteen month journey of my nephew’s early life, was spent eagerly waiting for him to take his first steps of many, on the long road of life. The day was fast approaching, when he would stand on his own and begin his plod. On November 28th 2015, Kai, with the help of the living room coffee table, brought his feet under him and balanced himself. His weight shifted forward and his leg raised slightly, in an attempt to repeat the movements he has seen. I watched in awe with and cheered him on hoping he would continue his first walk. Then, my brother – Brandon – did something disconcerting. In a reflexive scramble, he lunged for his cell phone to record his son’s very first steps. Although the act was seemingly innocuous, I had a hard time processing my brother’s instinctive dependence on technology to document the event. I would have a hard time convincing myself that watching my son’s first steps on the screen of my cell phone was as genuine an experience as staying in the moment with Kai. Technologically documenting your child’s milestones, as if they could be easily forgotten, symbolizes our collective surrender to corporate greed, driven social media, the retooled “industrial complex.”

I find myself barely treading water in a world of disconnected people, up to their neck in the frenzy of social buzz. I see my friends and family watch their life happen through their camera lenses, hypnotized by virtual reality. In this day and age, I count myself as a contrarian, focused on the pursuit of analogue reality. Fortunately, I am not bound by the media-set standards, and I allow myself to explore the rawest and most pure version of myself. I am thankful for life on life’s terms. I feel unobligated to share every moment with others. I often find myself daydreaming about places I have been and places I want to go. When I am in a “picture perfect” scene, I am able to appreciate it without distraction. I discover moments where the scene is so beautiful, I am unable to take my eyes off of it. These visions of beauty and peace are riveted in my mind; these memories will last forever.

 I was lucky enough to tour Italy with a group of classmates, and a good friend, Coach Hayes. The city of Rome was as exquisite as advertised. The tops of hundreds of churches dotted the skyline. The infamous Colosseum stood defiantly and majestically, bustling with tourists pulled like a magnet to it. And in Pompeii, Mount Vesuvius lorded over the clouds, shrouding its petrified tombs. Houses with ancient paintings and countless artifacts, and ashy human remains radiate for a version hyperrealism that tops any video game. I witnessed these antiquities in awe. To my mom’s dismay, I returned from the trip with few pictures, but loads of memories. The pictures I did take were great, but the experience and memories are unparalleled. 

In Timber Creek High School, I have learned many to read critically, write clearly, and to locate geographical locations around the world. Not surprisingly, I never had the chance to be enrolled in a class that taught gratitude. For me, being thankful for my blessings has become a lifestyle choice. This attitude enhances open-mindedness and allows for a broadened understanding of other’s ideas. People are more in tune to taking videos and pictures of their every waking-moment, rather than soaking up the rays of sunshine on tap nearly every day. People are bound by their technology and fail to be themselves in social situations. The gratefulness one can learn from setting one’s phone aside is freedom. I liberate myself from the strictures of our internet society, and plan to become a part of the enriched culture of real academic and social interaction in College Station.

I strap on my dad’s old bicycle helmet and dig my fingers into the cotton candy coat of fur. I wrap my legs firmly around the belly of the sheep and wait for the gate to fling open. I look through the gaps in the pen to find my dad eagerly waiting in the arena to watch his cowboy son be whipped around by a sheep twice his size. “Mutton Bustin,” we called it. This is the closest an eight-year old can get to crashing action in a small town mega-event, the Coleman County Rodeo. The rodeo clown throws the gate open, and the sheep – ferociously – tears through the arena. I endure volleys of bucks and kicks while fighting to keep dirt out of my eyes. The sheep eventually musters up enough force to catapult me from its back, and onto the dirt. I roll over to see my dad beaming at me. I won the belt buckle, along with my father’s pride. From this experience I learned to give my best and never quit. I know that I will take my competitive spirit and unwavering effort to my university studies.

Both of my parents, Michael and Rebecca were raised in a children’s home in Fort Worth, Texas. In spite of their status as orphans, my parents beat the odds and found success. They were both granted academic scholarships, and completed their degrees without a traditional support system. My father graduated from Texas A&M (1992) with a degree in human physiology, and he began his career as an E.R. physician. My mother studied nursing and became a RN. They turned their passion of helping others into their vocation, and perhaps, they are honoring the altruism of those kind souls who raised them. Following their lead, I choose to serve others as a medical doctor.

 I spent many, many hours with Dad in the hospital, following him on his rounds. For my dad, it seemed his job was more of a calling than a grind. I admire him for the passion he exudes in his work, and at an early age, I planned to follow in his footsteps. Despite having grown up in relatively affluent circumstances, I know that without their guidance and support, I would not be prepared or motivated to study medicine. I have grown up in the presence of many positive people. Following my father – Dr. Bailey – step after step has led me to pursue the same honorable vocation. 

I thank God every day for my family. My mom, Rebecca taught me some of my most important lessons in life. She taught me that one can be tough, but empathetic. She exemplifies grace under pressure while putting the needs of her loved ones at the fore. I will forever strive to attain the drive and confidence that I was shown. My parents were not given very much, only what the hospitable people of the Masonic Home and School could offer them. My parents are the ideal role models for academics and interpersonal compassion, and I intend to perpetuate their graciousness in my work going forward. Furthermore, my parent’s ambition has long been instilled in my very being, as if it were genetically imprinted. I suspect that one’s family can determine the extent of one’s success. 

 Some students worry moving away from home to study at college, as a solitary and possibly, traumatizing experience. I pray that you will find that I am motivated, capable, and empathetic individual who will add value to the Texas A&M University community. I am sure that I will perform at the highest level, academically and socially while adding to the world-class reputation of the Aggie Nation. 

The sixteen month journey of my nephew’s early life, was spent eagerly waiting for him to take his first steps of many, on the long road of life. The day was fast approaching, when he would stand on his own and begin his plod. On November 28th 2015, Kai, with the help of the living room coffee table, brought his feet under him and balanced himself. His weight shifted forward and his leg raised slightly, in an attempt to repeat the movements he has seen. I watched in awe with and cheered him on hoping he would continue his first walk. Then, my brother – Brandon – did something disconcerting. In a reflexive scramble, he lunged for his cell phone to record his son’s very first steps. Although the act was seemingly innocuous, I had a hard time processing my brother’s instinctive dependence on technology to document the event. I would have a hard time convincing myself that watching my son’s first steps on the screen of my cell phone was as genuine an experience as staying in the moment with Kai. Technologically documenting your child’s milestones, as if they could be easily forgotten, symbolizes our collective surrender to corporate greed, driven social media, the retooled “industrial complex.”

I find myself barely treading water in a world of disconnected people, up to their neck in the frenzy of social buzz. I see my friends and family watch their life happen through their camera lenses, hypnotized by virtual reality. In this day and age, I count myself as a contrarian, focused on the pursuit of analogue reality. Fortunately, I am not bound by the media-set standards, and I allow myself to explore the rawest and most pure version of myself. I am thankful for life on life’s terms. I feel unobligated to share every moment with others. I often find myself daydreaming about places I have been and places I want to go. When I am in a “picture perfect” scene, I am able to appreciate it without distraction. I discover moments where the scene is so beautiful, I am unable to take my eyes off of it. These visions of beauty and peace are riveted in my mind; these memories will last forever.

 I was lucky enough to tour Italy with a group of classmates, and a good friend, Coach Hayes. The city of Rome was as exquisite as advertised. The tops of hundreds of churches dotted the skyline. The infamous Colosseum stood defiantly and majestically, bustling with tourists pulled like a magnet to it. And in Pompeii, Mount Vesuvius lorded over the clouds, shrouding its petrified tombs. Houses with ancient paintings and countless artifacts, and ashy human remains radiate for a version hyperrealism that tops any video game. I witnessed these antiquities in awe. To my mom’s dismay, I returned from the trip with few pictures, but loads of memories. The pictures I did take were great, but the experience and memories are unparalleled. 

In Timber Creek High School, I have learned many to read critically, write clearly, and to locate geographical locations around the world. Not surprisingly, I never had the chance to be enrolled in a class that taught gratitude. For me, being thankful for my blessings has become a lifestyle choice. This attitude enhances open-mindedness and allows for a broadened understanding of other’s ideas. People are more in tune to taking videos and pictures of their every waking-moment, rather than soaking up the rays of sunshine on tap nearly every day. People are bound by their technology and fail to be themselves in social situations. The gratefulness one can learn from setting one’s phone aside is freedom. I liberate myself from the strictures of our internet society, and plan to become a part of the enriched culture of real academic and social interaction in College Station.

I strap on my dad’s old bicycle helmet and dig my fingers into the cotton candy coat of fur. I wrap my legs firmly around the belly of the sheep and wait for the gate to fling open. I look through the gaps in the pen to find my dad eagerly waiting in the arena to watch his cowboy son be whipped around by a sheep twice his size. “Mutton Bustin,” we called it. This is the closest an eight-year old can get to crashing action in a small town mega-event, the Coleman County Rodeo. The rodeo clown throws the gate open, and the sheep – ferociously – tears through the arena. I endure volleys of bucks and kicks while fighting to keep dirt out of my eyes. The sheep eventually musters up enough force to catapult me from its back, and onto the dirt. I roll over to see my dad beaming at me. I won the belt buckle, along with my father’s pride. From this experience I learned to give my best and never quit. I know that I will take my competitive spirit and unwavering effort to my university studies.

Both of my parents, Michael and Rebecca were raised in a children’s home in Fort Worth, Texas. In spite of their status as orphans, my parents beat the odds and found success. They were both granted academic scholarships, and completed their degrees without a traditional support system. My father graduated from Texas A&M (1992) with a degree in human physiology, and he began his career as an E.R. physician. My mother studied nursing and became a RN. They turned their passion of helping others into their vocation, and perhaps, they are honoring the altruism of those kind souls who raised them. Following their lead, I choose to serve others as a medical doctor.

 I spent many, many hours with Dad in the hospital, following him on his rounds. For my dad, it seemed his job was more of a calling than a grind. I admire him for the passion he exudes in his work, and at an early age, I planned to follow in his footsteps. Despite having grown up in relatively affluent circumstances, I know that without their guidance and support, I would not be prepared or motivated to study medicine. I have grown up in the presence of many positive people. Following my father – Dr. Bailey – step after step has led me to pursue the same honorable vocation. 

I thank God every day for my family. My mom, Rebecca taught me some of my most important lessons in life. She taught me that one can be tough, but empathetic. She exemplifies grace under pressure while putting the needs of her loved ones at the fore. I will forever strive to attain the drive and confidence that I was shown. My parents were not given very much, only what the hospitable people of the Masonic Home and School could offer them. My parents are the ideal role models for academics and interpersonal compassion, and I intend to perpetuate their graciousness in my work going forward. Furthermore, my parent’s ambition has long been instilled in my very being, as if it were genetically imprinted. I suspect that one’s family can determine the extent of one’s success. 

 Some students worry moving away from home to study at college, as a solitary and possibly, traumatizing experience. I pray that you will find that I am motivated, capable, and empathetic individual who will add value to the Texas A&M University community. I am sure that I will perform at the highest level, academically and socially while adding to the world-class reputation of the Aggie Nation. 

The sixteen month journey of my nephew’s early life, was spent eagerly waiting for him to take his first steps of many, on the long road of life. The day was fast approaching, when he would stand on his own and begin his plod. On November 28th 2015, Kai, with the help of the living room coffee table, brought his feet under him and balanced himself. His weight shifted forward and his leg raised slightly, in an attempt to repeat the movements he has seen. I watched in awe with and cheered him on hoping he would continue his first walk. Then, my brother – Brandon – did something disconcerting. In a reflexive scramble, he lunged for his cell phone to record his son’s very first steps. Although the act was seemingly innocuous, I had a hard time processing my brother’s instinctive dependence on technology to document the event. I would have a hard time convincing myself that watching my son’s first steps on the screen of my cell phone was as genuine an experience as staying in the moment with Kai. Technologically documenting your child’s milestones, as if they could be easily forgotten, symbolizes our collective surrender to corporate greed, driven social media, the retooled “industrial complex.”

I find myself barely treading water in a world of disconnected people, up to their neck in the frenzy of social buzz. I see my friends and family watch their life happen through their camera lenses, hypnotized by virtual reality. In this day and age, I count myself as a contrarian, focused on the pursuit of analogue reality. Fortunately, I am not bound by the media-set standards, and I allow myself to explore the rawest and most pure version of myself. I am thankful for life on life’s terms. I feel unobligated to share every moment with others. I often find myself daydreaming about places I have been and places I want to go. When I am in a “picture perfect” scene, I am able to appreciate it without distraction. I discover moments where the scene is so beautiful, I am unable to take my eyes off of it. These visions of beauty and peace are riveted in my mind; these memories will last forever.

 I was lucky enough to tour Italy with a group of classmates, and a good friend, Coach Hayes. The city of Rome was as exquisite as advertised. The tops of hundreds of churches dotted the skyline. The infamous Colosseum stood defiantly and majestically, bustling with tourists pulled like a magnet to it. And in Pompeii, Mount Vesuvius lorded over the clouds, shrouding its petrified tombs. Houses with ancient paintings and countless artifacts, and ashy human remains radiate for a version hyperrealism that tops any video game. I witnessed these antiquities in awe. To my mom’s dismay, I returned from the trip with few pictures, but loads of memories. The pictures I did take were great, but the experience and memories are unparalleled. 

In Timber Creek High School, I have learned many to read critically, write clearly, and to locate geographical locations around the world. Not surprisingly, I never had the chance to be enrolled in a class that taught gratitude. For me, being thankful for my blessings has become a lifestyle choice. This attitude enhances open-mindedness and allows for a broadened understanding of other’s ideas. People are more in tune to taking videos and pictures of their every waking-moment, rather than soaking up the rays of sunshine on tap nearly every day. People are bound by their technology and fail to be themselves in social situations. The gratefulness one can learn from setting one’s phone aside is freedom. I liberate myself from the strictures of our internet society, and plan to become a part of the enriched culture of real academic and social interaction in College Station.

I strap on my dad’s old bicycle helmet and dig my fingers into the cotton candy coat of fur. I wrap my legs firmly around the belly of the sheep and wait for the gate to fling open. I look through the gaps in the pen to find my dad eagerly waiting in the arena to watch his cowboy son be whipped around by a sheep twice his size. “Mutton Bustin,” we called it. This is the closest an eight-year old can get to crashing action in a small town mega-event, the Coleman County Rodeo. The rodeo clown throws the gate open, and the sheep – ferociously – tears through the arena. I endure volleys of bucks and kicks while fighting to keep dirt out of my eyes. The sheep eventually musters up enough force to catapult me from its back, and onto the dirt. I roll over to see my dad beaming at me. I won the belt buckle, along with my father’s pride. From this experience I learned to give my best and never quit. I know that I will take my competitive spirit and unwavering effort to my university studies.

Both of my parents, Michael and Rebecca were raised in a children’s home in Fort Worth, Texas. In spite of their status as orphans, my parents beat the odds and found success. They were both granted academic scholarships, and completed their degrees without a traditional support system. My father graduated from Texas A&M (1992) with a degree in human physiology, and he began his career as an E.R. physician. My mother studied nursing and became a RN. They turned their passion of helping others into their vocation, and perhaps, they are honoring the altruism of those kind souls who raised them. Following their lead, I choose to serve others as a medical doctor.

 I spent many, many hours with Dad in the hospital, following him on his rounds. For my dad, it seemed his job was more of a calling than a grind. I admire him for the passion he exudes in his work, and at an early age, I planned to follow in his footsteps. Despite having grown up in relatively affluent circumstances, I know that without their guidance and support, I would not be prepared or motivated to study medicine. I have grown up in the presence of many positive people. Following my father – Dr. Bailey – step after step has led me to pursue the same honorable vocation. 

I thank God every day for my family. My mom, Rebecca taught me some of my most important lessons in life. She taught me that one can be tough, but empathetic. She exemplifies grace under pressure while putting the needs of her loved ones at the fore. I will forever strive to attain the drive and confidence that I was shown. My parents were not given very much, only what the hospitable people of the Masonic Home and School could offer them. My parents are the ideal role models for academics and interpersonal compassion, and I intend to perpetuate their graciousness in my work going forward. Furthermore, my parent’s ambition has long been instilled in my very being, as if it were genetically imprinted. I suspect that one’s family can determine the extent of one’s success. 

 Some students worry moving away from home to study at college, as a solitary and possibly, traumatizing experience. I pray that you will find that I am motivated, capable, and empathetic individual who will add value to the Texas A&M University community. I am sure that I will perform at the highest level, academically and socially while adding to the world-class reputation of the Aggie Nation. 

The sixteen month journey of my nephew’s early life, was spent eagerly waiting for him to take his first steps of many, on the long road of life. The day was fast approaching, when he would stand on his own and begin his plod. On November 28th 2015, Kai, with the help of the living room coffee table, brought his feet under him and balanced himself. His weight shifted forward and his leg raised slightly, in an attempt to repeat the movements he has seen. I watched in awe with and cheered him on hoping he would continue his first walk. Then, my brother – Brandon – did something disconcerting. In a reflexive scramble, he lunged for his cell phone to record his son’s very first steps. Although the act was seemingly innocuous, I had a hard time processing my brother’s instinctive dependence on technology to document the event. I would have a hard time convincing myself that watching my son’s first steps on the screen of my cell phone was as genuine an experience as staying in the moment with Kai. Technologically documenting your child’s milestones, as if they could be easily forgotten, symbolizes our collective surrender to corporate greed, driven social media, the retooled “industrial complex.”

I find myself barely treading water in a world of disconnected people, up to their neck in the frenzy of social buzz. I see my friends and family watch their life happen through their camera lenses, hypnotized by virtual reality. In this day and age, I count myself as a contrarian, focused on the pursuit of analogue reality. Fortunately, I am not bound by the media-set standards, and I allow myself to explore the rawest and most pure version of myself. I am thankful for life on life’s terms. I feel unobligated to share every moment with others. I often find myself daydreaming about places I have been and places I want to go. When I am in a “picture perfect” scene, I am able to appreciate it without distraction. I discover moments where the scene is so beautiful, I am unable to take my eyes off of it. These visions of beauty and peace are riveted in my mind; these memories will last forever.

 I was lucky enough to tour Italy with a group of classmates, and a good friend, Coach Hayes. The city of Rome was as exquisite as advertised. The tops of hundreds of churches dotted the skyline. The infamous Colosseum stood defiantly and majestically, bustling with tourists pulled like a magnet to it. And in Pompeii, Mount Vesuvius lorded over the clouds, shrouding its petrified tombs. Houses with ancient paintings and countless artifacts, and ashy human remains radiate for a version hyperrealism that tops any video game. I witnessed these antiquities in awe. To my mom’s dismay, I returned from the trip with few pictures, but loads of memories. The pictures I did take were great, but the experience and memories are unparalleled. 

In Timber Creek High School, I have learned many to read critically, write clearly, and to locate geographical locations around the world. Not surprisingly, I never had the chance to be enrolled in a class that taught gratitude. For me, being thankful for my blessings has become a lifestyle choice. This attitude enhances open-mindedness and allows for a broadened understanding of other’s ideas. People are more in tune to taking videos and pictures of their every waking-moment, rather than soaking up the rays of sunshine on tap nearly every day. People are bound by their technology and fail to be themselves in social situations. The gratefulness one can learn from setting one’s phone aside is freedom. I liberate myself from the strictures of our internet society, and plan to become a part of the enriched culture of real academic and social interaction in College Station.

I strap on my dad’s old bicycle helmet and dig my fingers into the cotton candy coat of fur. I wrap my legs firmly around the belly of the sheep and wait for the gate to fling open. I look through the gaps in the pen to find my dad eagerly waiting in the arena to watch his cowboy son be whipped around by a sheep twice his size. “Mutton Bustin,” we called it. This is the closest an eight-year old can get to crashing action in a small town mega-event, the Coleman County Rodeo. The rodeo clown throws the gate open, and the sheep – ferociously – tears through the arena. I endure volleys of bucks and kicks while fighting to keep dirt out of my eyes. The sheep eventually musters up enough force to catapult me from its back, and onto the dirt. I roll over to see my dad beaming at me. I won the belt buckle, along with my father’s pride. From this experience I learned to give my best and never quit. I know that I will take my competitive spirit and unwavering effort to my university studies.

Both of my parents, Michael and Rebecca were raised in a children’s home in Fort Worth, Texas. In spite of their status as orphans, my parents beat the odds and found success. They were both granted academic scholarships, and completed their degrees without a traditional support system. My father graduated from Texas A&M (1992) with a degree in human physiology, and he began his career as an E.R. physician. My mother studied nursing and became a RN. They turned their passion of helping others into their vocation, and perhaps, they are honoring the altruism of those kind souls who raised them. Following their lead, I choose to serve others as a medical doctor.

 I spent many, many hours with Dad in the hospital, following him on his rounds. For my dad, it seemed his job was more of a calling than a grind. I admire him for the passion he exudes in his work, and at an early age, I planned to follow in his footsteps. Despite having grown up in relatively affluent circumstances, I know that without their guidance and support, I would not be prepared or motivated to study medicine. I have grown up in the presence of many positive people. Following my father – Dr. Bailey – step after step has led me to pursue the same honorable vocation. 

I thank God every day for my family. My mom, Rebecca taught me some of my most important lessons in life. She taught me that one can be tough, but empathetic. She exemplifies grace under pressure while putting the needs of her loved ones at the fore. I will forever strive to attain the drive and confidence that I was shown. My parents were not given very much, only what the hospitable people of the Masonic Home and School could offer them. My parents are the ideal role models for academics and interpersonal compassion, and I intend to perpetuate their graciousness in my work going forward. Furthermore, my parent’s ambition has long been instilled in my very being, as if it were genetically imprinted. I suspect that one’s family can determine the extent of one’s success. 

 Some students worry moving away from home to study at college, as a solitary and possibly, traumatizing experience. I pray that you will find that I am motivated, capable, and empathetic individual who will add value to the Texas A&M University community. I am sure that I will perform at the highest level, academically and socially while adding to the world-class reputation of the Aggie Nation. 

The sixteen month journey of my nephew’s early life, was spent eagerly waiting for him to take his first steps of many, on the long road of life. The day was fast approaching, when he would stand on his own and begin his plod. On November 28th 2015, Kai, with the help of the living room coffee table, brought his feet under him and balanced himself. His weight shifted forward and his leg raised slightly, in an attempt to repeat the movements he has seen. I watched in awe with and cheered him on hoping he would continue his first walk. Then, my brother – Brandon – did something disconcerting. In a reflexive scramble, he lunged for his cell phone to record his son’s very first steps. Although the act was seemingly innocuous, I had a hard time processing my brother’s instinctive dependence on technology to document the event. I would have a hard time convincing myself that watching my son’s first steps on the screen of my cell phone was as genuine an experience as staying in the moment with Kai. Technologically documenting your child’s milestones, as if they could be easily forgotten, symbolizes our collective surrender to corporate greed, driven social media, the retooled “industrial complex.”

I find myself barely treading water in a world of disconnected people, up to their neck in the frenzy of social buzz. I see my friends and family watch their life happen through their camera lenses, hypnotized by virtual reality. In this day and age, I count myself as a contrarian, focused on the pursuit of analogue reality. Fortunately, I am not bound by the media-set standards, and I allow myself to explore the rawest and most pure version of myself. I am thankful for life on life’s terms. I feel unobligated to share every moment with others. I often find myself daydreaming about places I have been and places I want to go. When I am in a “picture perfect” scene, I am able to appreciate it without distraction. I discover moments where the scene is so beautiful, I am unable to take my eyes off of it. These visions of beauty and peace are riveted in my mind; these memories will last forever.

 I was lucky enough to tour Italy with a group of classmates, and a good friend, Coach Hayes. The city of Rome was as exquisite as advertised. The tops of hundreds of churches dotted the skyline. The infamous Colosseum stood defiantly and majestically, bustling with tourists pulled like a magnet to it. And in Pompeii, Mount Vesuvius lorded over the clouds, shrouding its petrified tombs. Houses with ancient paintings and countless artifacts, and ashy human remains radiate for a version hyperrealism that tops any video game. I witnessed these antiquities in awe. To my mom’s dismay, I returned from the trip with few pictures, but loads of memories. The pictures I did take were great, but the experience and memories are unparalleled. 

In Timber Creek High School, I have learned many to read critically, write clearly, and to locate geographical locations around the world. Not surprisingly, I never had the chance to be enrolled in a class that taught gratitude. For me, being thankful for my blessings has become a lifestyle choice. This attitude enhances open-mindedness and allows for a broadened understanding of other’s ideas. People are more in tune to taking videos and pictures of their every waking-moment, rather than soaking up the rays of sunshine on tap nearly every day. People are bound by their technology and fail to be themselves in social situations. The gratefulness one can learn from setting one’s phone aside is freedom. I liberate myself from the strictures of our internet society, and plan to become a part of the enriched culture of real academic and social interaction in College Station.

I strap on my dad’s old bicycle helmet and dig my fingers into the cotton candy coat of fur. I wrap my legs firmly around the belly of the sheep and wait for the gate to fling open. I look through the gaps in the pen to find my dad eagerly waiting in the arena to watch his cowboy son be whipped around by a sheep twice his size. “Mutton Bustin,” we called it. This is the closest an eight-year old can get to crashing action in a small town mega-event, the Coleman County Rodeo. The rodeo clown throws the gate open, and the sheep – ferociously – tears through the arena. I endure volleys of bucks and kicks while fighting to keep dirt out of my eyes. The sheep eventually musters up enough force to catapult me from its back, and onto the dirt. I roll over to see my dad beaming at me. I won the belt buckle, along with my father’s pride. From this experience I learned to give my best and never quit. I know that I will take my competitive spirit and unwavering effort to my university studies.

Both of my parents, Michael and Rebecca were raised in a children’s home in Fort Worth, Texas. In spite of their status as orphans, my parents beat the odds and found success. They were both granted academic scholarships, and completed their degrees without a traditional support system. My father graduated from Texas A&M (1992) with a degree in human physiology, and he began his career as an E.R. physician. My mother studied nursing and became a RN. They turned their passion of helping others into their vocation, and perhaps, they are honoring the altruism of those kind souls who raised them. Following their lead, I choose to serve others as a medical doctor.

 I spent many, many hours with Dad in the hospital, following him on his rounds. For my dad, it seemed his job was more of a calling than a grind. I admire him for the passion he exudes in his work, and at an early age, I planned to follow in his footsteps. Despite having grown up in relatively affluent circumstances, I know that without their guidance and support, I would not be prepared or motivated to study medicine. I have grown up in the presence of many positive people. Following my father – Dr. Bailey – step after step has led me to pursue the same honorable vocation. 

I thank God every day for my family. My mom, Rebecca taught me some of my most important lessons in life. She taught me that one can be tough, but empathetic. She exemplifies grace under pressure while putting the needs of her loved ones at the fore. I will forever strive to attain the drive and confidence that I was shown. My parents were not given very much, only what the hospitable people of the Masonic Home and School could offer them. My parents are the ideal role models for academics and interpersonal compassion, and I intend to perpetuate their graciousness in my work going forward. Furthermore, my parent’s ambition has long been instilled in my very being, as if it were genetically imprinted. I suspect that one’s family can determine the extent of one’s success. 

 Some students worry moving away from home to study at college, as a solitary and possibly, traumatizing experience. I pray that you will find that I am motivated, capable, and empathetic individual who will add value to the Texas A&M University community. I am sure that I will perform at the highest level, academically and socially while adding to the world-class reputation of the Aggie Nation. 

The sixteen month journey of my nephew’s early life, was spent eagerly waiting for him to take his first steps of many, on the long road of life. The day was fast approaching, when he would stand on his own and begin his plod. On November 28th 2015, Kai, with the help of the living room coffee table, brought his feet under him and balanced himself. His weight shifted forward and his leg raised slightly, in an attempt to repeat the movements he has seen. I watched in awe with and cheered him on hoping he would continue his first walk. Then, my brother – Brandon – did something disconcerting. In a reflexive scramble, he lunged for his cell phone to record his son’s very first steps. Although the act was seemingly innocuous, I had a hard time processing my brother’s instinctive dependence on technology to document the event. I would have a hard time convincing myself that watching my son’s first steps on the screen of my cell phone was as genuine an experience as staying in the moment with Kai. Technologically documenting your child’s milestones, as if they could be easily forgotten, symbolizes our collective surrender to corporate greed, driven social media, the retooled “industrial complex.”

I find myself barely treading water in a world of disconnected people, up to their neck in the frenzy of social buzz. I see my friends and family watch their life happen through their camera lenses, hypnotized by virtual reality. In this day and age, I count myself as a contrarian, focused on the pursuit of analogue reality. Fortunately, I am not bound by the media-set standards, and I allow myself to explore the rawest and most pure version of myself. I am thankful for life on life’s terms. I feel unobligated to share every moment with others. I often find myself daydreaming about places I have been and places I want to go. When I am in a “picture perfect” scene, I am able to appreciate it without distraction. I discover moments where the scene is so beautiful, I am unable to take my eyes off of it. These visions of beauty and peace are riveted in my mind; these memories will last forever.

 I was lucky enough to tour Italy with a group of classmates, and a good friend, Coach Hayes. The city of Rome was as exquisite as advertised. The tops of hundreds of churches dotted the skyline. The infamous Colosseum stood defiantly and majestically, bustling with tourists pulled like a magnet to it. And in Pompeii, Mount Vesuvius lorded over the clouds, shrouding its petrified tombs. Houses with ancient paintings and countless artifacts, and ashy human remains radiate for a version hyperrealism that tops any video game. I witnessed these antiquities in awe. To my mom’s dismay, I returned from the trip with few pictures, but loads of memories. The pictures I did take were great, but the experience and memories are unparalleled. 

In Timber Creek High School, I have learned many to read critically, write clearly, and to locate geographical locations around the world. Not surprisingly, I never had the chance to be enrolled in a class that taught gratitude. For me, being thankful for my blessings has become a lifestyle choice. This attitude enhances open-mindedness and allows for a broadened understanding of other’s ideas. People are more in tune to taking videos and pictures of their every waking-moment, rather than soaking up the rays of sunshine on tap nearly every day. People are bound by their technology and fail to be themselves in social situations. The gratefulness one can learn from setting one’s phone aside is freedom. I liberate myself from the strictures of our internet society, and plan to become a part of the enriched culture of real academic and social interaction in College Station.

I strap on my dad’s old bicycle helmet and dig my fingers into the cotton candy coat of fur. I wrap my legs firmly around the belly of the sheep and wait for the gate to fling open. I look through the gaps in the pen to find my dad eagerly waiting in the arena to watch his cowboy son be whipped around by a sheep twice his size. “Mutton Bustin,” we called it. This is the closest an eight-year old can get to crashing action in a small town mega-event, the Coleman County Rodeo. The rodeo clown throws the gate open, and the sheep – ferociously – tears through the arena. I endure volleys of bucks and kicks while fighting to keep dirt out of my eyes. The sheep eventually musters up enough force to catapult me from its back, and onto the dirt. I roll over to see my dad beaming at me. I won the belt buckle, along with my father’s pride. From this experience I learned to give my best and never quit. I know that I will take my competitive spirit and unwavering effort to my university studies.

Both of my parents, Michael and Rebecca were raised in a children’s home in Fort Worth, Texas. In spite of their status as orphans, my parents beat the odds and found success. They were both granted academic scholarships, and completed their degrees without a traditional support system. My father graduated from Texas A&M (1992) with a degree in human physiology, and he began his career as an E.R. physician. My mother studied nursing and became a RN. They turned their passion of helping others into their vocation, and perhaps, they are honoring the altruism of those kind souls who raised them. Following their lead, I choose to serve others as a medical doctor.

 I spent many, many hours with Dad in the hospital, following him on his rounds. For my dad, it seemed his job was more of a calling than a grind. I admire him for the passion he exudes in his work, and at an early age, I planned to follow in his footsteps. Despite having grown up in relatively affluent circumstances, I know that without their guidance and support, I would not be prepared or motivated to study medicine. I have grown up in the presence of many positive people. Following my father – Dr. Bailey – step after step has led me to pursue the same honorable vocation. 

I thank God every day for my family. My mom, Rebecca taught me some of my most important lessons in life. She taught me that one can be tough, but empathetic. She exemplifies grace under pressure while putting the needs of her loved ones at the fore. I will forever strive to attain the drive and confidence that I was shown. My parents were not given very much, only what the hospitable people of the Masonic Home and School could offer them. My parents are the ideal role models for academics and interpersonal compassion, and I intend to perpetuate their graciousness in my work going forward. Furthermore, my parent’s ambition has long been instilled in my very being, as if it were genetically imprinted. I suspect that one’s family can determine the extent of one’s success. 

 Some students worry moving away from home to study at college, as a solitary and possibly, traumatizing experience. I pray that you will find that I am motivated, capable, and empathetic individual who will add value to the Texas A&M University community. I am sure that I will perform at the highest level, academically and socially while adding to the world-class reputation of the Aggie Nation. 

The sixteen month journey of my nephew’s early life, was spent eagerly waiting for him to take his first steps of many, on the long road of life. The day was fast approaching, when he would stand on his own and begin his plod. On November 28th 2015, Kai, with the help of the living room coffee table, brought his feet under him and balanced himself. His weight shifted forward and his leg raised slightly, in an attempt to repeat the movements he has seen. I watched in awe with and cheered him on hoping he would continue his first walk. Then, my brother – Brandon – did something disconcerting. In a reflexive scramble, he lunged for his cell phone to record his son’s very first steps. Although the act was seemingly innocuous, I had a hard time processing my brother’s instinctive dependence on technology to document the event. I would have a hard time convincing myself that watching my son’s first steps on the screen of my cell phone was as genuine an experience as staying in the moment with Kai. Technologically documenting your child’s milestones, as if they could be easily forgotten, symbolizes our collective surrender to corporate greed, driven social media, the retooled “industrial complex.”

I find myself barely treading water in a world of disconnected people, up to their neck in the frenzy of social buzz. I see my friends and family watch their life happen through their camera lenses, hypnotized by virtual reality. In this day and age, I count myself as a contrarian, focused on the pursuit of analogue reality. Fortunately, I am not bound by the media-set standards, and I allow myself to explore the rawest and most pure version of myself. I am thankful for life on life’s terms. I feel unobligated to share every moment with others. I often find myself daydreaming about places I have been and places I want to go. When I am in a “picture perfect” scene, I am able to appreciate it without distraction. I discover moments where the scene is so beautiful, I am unable to take my eyes off of it. These visions of beauty and peace are riveted in my mind; these memories will last forever.

 I was lucky enough to tour Italy with a group of classmates, and a good friend, Coach Hayes. The city of Rome was as exquisite as advertised. The tops of hundreds of churches dotted the skyline. The infamous Colosseum stood defiantly and majestically, bustling with tourists pulled like a magnet to it. And in Pompeii, Mount Vesuvius lorded over the clouds, shrouding its petrified tombs. Houses with ancient paintings and countless artifacts, and ashy human remains radiate for a version hyperrealism that tops any video game. I witnessed these antiquities in awe. To my mom’s dismay, I returned from the trip with few pictures, but loads of memories. The pictures I did take were great, but the experience and memories are unparalleled. 

In Timber Creek High School, I have learned many to read critically, write clearly, and to locate geographical locations around the world. Not surprisingly, I never had the chance to be enrolled in a class that taught gratitude. For me, being thankful for my blessings has become a lifestyle choice. This attitude enhances open-mindedness and allows for a broadened understanding of other’s ideas. People are more in tune to taking videos and pictures of their every waking-moment, rather than soaking up the rays of sunshine on tap nearly every day. People are bound by their technology and fail to be themselves in social situations. The gratefulness one can learn from setting one’s phone aside is freedom. I liberate myself from the strictures of our internet society, and plan to become a part of the enriched culture of real academic and social interaction in College Station.

I strap on my dad’s old bicycle helmet and dig my fingers into the cotton candy coat of fur. I wrap my legs firmly around the belly of the sheep and wait for the gate to fling open. I look through the gaps in the pen to find my dad eagerly waiting in the arena to watch his cowboy son be whipped around by a sheep twice his size. “Mutton Bustin,” we called it. This is the closest an eight-year old can get to crashing action in a small town mega-event, the Coleman County Rodeo. The rodeo clown throws the gate open, and the sheep – ferociously – tears through the arena. I endure volleys of bucks and kicks while fighting to keep dirt out of my eyes. The sheep eventually musters up enough force to catapult me from its back, and onto the dirt. I roll over to see my dad beaming at me. I won the belt buckle, along with my father’s pride. From this experience I learned to give my best and never quit. I know that I will take my competitive spirit and unwavering effort to my university studies.

Both of my parents, Michael and Rebecca were raised in a children’s home in Fort Worth, Texas. In spite of their status as orphans, my parents beat the odds and found success. They were both granted academic scholarships, and completed their degrees without a traditional support system. My father graduated from Texas A&M (1992) with a degree in human physiology, and he began his career as an E.R. physician. My mother studied nursing and became a RN. They turned their passion of helping others into their vocation, and perhaps, they are honoring the altruism of those kind souls who raised them. Following their lead, I choose to serve others as a medical doctor.

 I spent many, many hours with Dad in the hospital, following him on his rounds. For my dad, it seemed his job was more of a calling than a grind. I admire him for the passion he exudes in his work, and at an early age, I planned to follow in his footsteps. Despite having grown up in relatively affluent circumstances, I know that without their guidance and support, I would not be prepared or motivated to study medicine. I have grown up in the presence of many positive people. Following my father – Dr. Bailey – step after step has led me to pursue the same honorable vocation. 

I thank God every day for my family. My mom, Rebecca taught me some of my most important lessons in life. She taught me that one can be tough, but empathetic. She exemplifies grace under pressure while putting the needs of her loved ones at the fore. I will forever strive to attain the drive and confidence that I was shown. My parents were not given very much, only what the hospitable people of the Masonic Home and School could offer them. My parents are the ideal role models for academics and interpersonal compassion, and I intend to perpetuate their graciousness in my work going forward. Furthermore, my parent’s ambition has long been instilled in my very being, as if it were genetically imprinted. I suspect that one’s family can determine the extent of one’s success. 

 Some students worry moving away from home to study at college, as a solitary and possibly, traumatizing experience. I pray that you will find that I am motivated, capable, and empathetic individual who will add value to the Texas A&M University community. I am sure that I will perform at the highest level, academically and socially while adding to the world-class reputation of the Aggie Nation. 

The sixteen month journey of my nephew’s early life, was spent eagerly waiting for him to take his first steps of many, on the long road of life. The day was fast approaching, when he would stand on his own and begin his plod. On November 28th 2015, Kai, with the help of the living room coffee table, brought his feet under him and balanced himself. His weight shifted forward and his leg raised slightly, in an attempt to repeat the movements he has seen. I watched in awe with and cheered him on hoping he would continue his first walk. Then, my brother – Brandon – did something disconcerting. In a reflexive scramble, he lunged for his cell phone to record his son’s very first steps. Although the act was seemingly innocuous, I had a hard time processing my brother’s instinctive dependence on technology to document the event. I would have a hard time convincing myself that watching my son’s first steps on the screen of my cell phone was as genuine an experience as staying in the moment with Kai. Technologically documenting your child’s milestones, as if they could be easily forgotten, symbolizes our collective surrender to corporate greed, driven social media, the retooled “industrial complex.”

I find myself barely treading water in a world of disconnected people, up to their neck in the frenzy of social buzz. I see my friends and family watch their life happen through their camera lenses, hypnotized by virtual reality. In this day and age, I count myself as a contrarian, focused on the pursuit of analogue reality. Fortunately, I am not bound by the media-set standards, and I allow myself to explore the rawest and most pure version of myself. I am thankful for life on life’s terms. I feel unobligated to share every moment with others. I often find myself daydreaming about places I have been and places I want to go. When I am in a “picture perfect” scene, I am able to appreciate it without distraction. I discover moments where the scene is so beautiful, I am unable to take my eyes off of it. These visions of beauty and peace are riveted in my mind; these memories will last forever.

 I was lucky enough to tour Italy with a group of classmates, and a good friend, Coach Hayes. The city of Rome was as exquisite as advertised. The tops of hundreds of churches dotted the skyline. The infamous Colosseum stood defiantly and majestically, bustling with tourists pulled like a magnet to it. And in Pompeii, Mount Vesuvius lorded over the clouds, shrouding its petrified tombs. Houses with ancient paintings and countless artifacts, and ashy human remains radiate for a version hyperrealism that tops any video game. I witnessed these antiquities in awe. To my mom’s dismay, I returned from the trip with few pictures, but loads of memories. The pictures I did take were great, but the experience and memories are unparalleled. 

In Timber Creek High School, I have learned many to read critically, write clearly, and to locate geographical locations around the world. Not surprisingly, I never had the chance to be enrolled in a class that taught gratitude. For me, being thankful for my blessings has become a lifestyle choice. This attitude enhances open-mindedness and allows for a broadened understanding of other’s ideas. People are more in tune to taking videos and pictures of their every waking-moment, rather than soaking up the rays of sunshine on tap nearly every day. People are bound by their technology and fail to be themselves in social situations. The gratefulness one can learn from setting one’s phone aside is freedom. I liberate myself from the strictures of our internet society, and plan to become a part of the enriched culture of real academic and social interaction in College Station.

I strap on my dad’s old bicycle helmet and dig my fingers into the cotton candy coat of fur. I wrap my legs firmly around the belly of the sheep and wait for the gate to fling open. I look through the gaps in the pen to find my dad eagerly waiting in the arena to watch his cowboy son be whipped around by a sheep twice his size. “Mutton Bustin,” we called it. This is the closest an eight-year old can get to crashing action in a small town mega-event, the Coleman County Rodeo. The rodeo clown throws the gate open, and the sheep – ferociously – tears through the arena. I endure volleys of bucks and kicks while fighting to keep dirt out of my eyes. The sheep eventually musters up enough force to catapult me from its back, and onto the dirt. I roll over to see my dad beaming at me. I won the belt buckle, along with my father’s pride. From this experience I learned to give my best and never quit. I know that I will take my competitive spirit and unwavering effort to my university studies.

Both of my parents, Michael and Rebecca were raised in a children’s home in Fort Worth, Texas. In spite of their status as orphans, my parents beat the odds and found success. They were both granted academic scholarships, and completed their degrees without a traditional support system. My father graduated from Texas A&M (1992) with a degree in human physiology, and he began his career as an E.R. physician. My mother studied nursing and became a RN. They turned their passion of helping others into their vocation, and perhaps, they are honoring the altruism of those kind souls who raised them. Following their lead, I choose to serve others as a medical doctor.

 I spent many, many hours with Dad in the hospital, following him on his rounds. For my dad, it seemed his job was more of a calling than a grind. I admire him for the passion he exudes in his work, and at an early age, I planned to follow in his footsteps. Despite having grown up in relatively affluent circumstances, I know that without their guidance and support, I would not be prepared or motivated to study medicine. I have grown up in the presence of many positive people. Following my father – Dr. Bailey – step after step has led me to pursue the same honorable vocation. 

I thank God every day for my family. My mom, Rebecca taught me some of my most important lessons in life. She taught me that one can be tough, but empathetic. She exemplifies grace under pressure while putting the needs of her loved ones at the fore. I will forever strive to attain the drive and confidence that I was shown. My parents were not given very much, only what the hospitable people of the Masonic Home and School could offer them. My parents are the ideal role models for academics and interpersonal compassion, and I intend to perpetuate their graciousness in my work going forward. Furthermore, my parent’s ambition has long been instilled in my very being, as if it were genetically imprinted. I suspect that one’s family can determine the extent of one’s success. 

 Some students worry moving away from home to study at college, as a solitary and possibly, traumatizing experience. I pray that you will find that I am motivated, capable, and empathetic individual who will add value to the Texas A&M University community. I am sure that I will perform at the highest level, academically and socially while adding to the world-class reputation of the Aggie Nation. 

The sixteen month journey of my nephew’s early life, was spent eagerly waiting for him to take his first steps of many, on the long road of life. The day was fast approaching, when he would stand on his own and begin his plod. On November 28th 2015, Kai, with the help of the living room coffee table, brought his feet under him and balanced himself. His weight shifted forward and his leg raised slightly, in an attempt to repeat the movements he has seen. I watched in awe with and cheered him on hoping he would continue his first walk. Then, my brother – Brandon – did something disconcerting. In a reflexive scramble, he lunged for his cell phone to record his son’s very first steps. Although the act was seemingly innocuous, I had a hard time processing my brother’s instinctive dependence on technology to document the event. I would have a hard time convincing myself that watching my son’s first steps on the screen of my cell phone was as genuine an experience as staying in the moment with Kai. Technologically documenting your child’s milestones, as if they could be easily forgotten, symbolizes our collective surrender to corporate greed, driven social media, the retooled “industrial complex.”

I find myself barely treading water in a world of disconnected people, up to their neck in the frenzy of social buzz. I see my friends and family watch their life happen through their camera lenses, hypnotized by virtual reality. In this day and age, I count myself as a contrarian, focused on the pursuit of analogue reality. Fortunately, I am not bound by the media-set standards, and I allow myself to explore the rawest and most pure version of myself. I am thankful for life on life’s terms. I feel unobligated to share every moment with others. I often find myself daydreaming about places I have been and places I want to go. When I am in a “picture perfect” scene, I am able to appreciate it without distraction. I discover moments where the scene is so beautiful, I am unable to take my eyes off of it. These visions of beauty and peace are riveted in my mind; these memories will last forever.

 I was lucky enough to tour Italy with a group of classmates, and a good friend, Coach Hayes. The city of Rome was as exquisite as advertised. The tops of hundreds of churches dotted the skyline. The infamous Colosseum stood defiantly and majestically, bustling with tourists pulled like a magnet to it. And in Pompeii, Mount Vesuvius lorded over the clouds, shrouding its petrified tombs. Houses with ancient paintings and countless artifacts, and ashy human remains radiate for a version hyperrealism that tops any video game. I witnessed these antiquities in awe. To my mom’s dismay, I returned from the trip with few pictures, but loads of memories. The pictures I did take were great, but the experience and memories are unparalleled. 

In Timber Creek High School, I have learned many to read critically, write clearly, and to locate geographical locations around the world. Not surprisingly, I never had the chance to be enrolled in a class that taught gratitude. For me, being thankful for my blessings has become a lifestyle choice. This attitude enhances open-mindedness and allows for a broadened understanding of other’s ideas. People are more in tune to taking videos and pictures of their every waking-moment, rather than soaking up the rays of sunshine on tap nearly every day. People are bound by their technology and fail to be themselves in social situations. The gratefulness one can learn from setting one’s phone aside is freedom. I liberate myself from the strictures of our internet society, and plan to become a part of the enriched culture of real academic and social interaction in College Station.

I strap on my dad’s old bicycle helmet and dig my fingers into the cotton candy coat of fur. I wrap my legs firmly around the belly of the sheep and wait for the gate to fling open. I look through the gaps in the pen to find my dad eagerly waiting in the arena to watch his cowboy son be whipped around by a sheep twice his size. “Mutton Bustin,” we called it. This is the closest an eight-year old can get to crashing action in a small town mega-event, the Coleman County Rodeo. The rodeo clown throws the gate open, and the sheep – ferociously – tears through the arena. I endure volleys of bucks and kicks while fighting to keep dirt out of my eyes. The sheep eventually musters up enough force to catapult me from its back, and onto the dirt. I roll over to see my dad beaming at me. I won the belt buckle, along with my father’s pride. From this experience I learned to give my best and never quit. I know that I will take my competitive spirit and unwavering effort to my university studies.

Both of my parents, Michael and Rebecca were raised in a children’s home in Fort Worth, Texas. In spite of their status as orphans, my parents beat the odds and found success. They were both granted academic scholarships, and completed their degrees without a traditional support system. My father graduated from Texas A&M (1992) with a degree in human physiology, and he began his career as an E.R. physician. My mother studied nursing and became a RN. They turned their passion of helping others into their vocation, and perhaps, they are honoring the altruism of those kind souls who raised them. Following their lead, I choose to serve others as a medical doctor.

 I spent many, many hours with Dad in the hospital, following him on his rounds. For my dad, it seemed his job was more of a calling than a grind. I admire him for the passion he exudes in his work, and at an early age, I planned to follow in his footsteps. Despite having grown up in relatively affluent circumstances, I know that without their guidance and support, I would not be prepared or motivated to study medicine. I have grown up in the presence of many positive people. Following my father – Dr. Bailey – step after step has led me to pursue the same honorable vocation. 

I thank God every day for my family. My mom, Rebecca taught me some of my most important lessons in life. She taught me that one can be tough, but empathetic. She exemplifies grace under pressure while putting the needs of her loved ones at the fore. I will forever strive to attain the drive and confidence that I was shown. My parents were not given very much, only what the hospitable people of the Masonic Home and School could offer them. My parents are the ideal role models for academics and interpersonal compassion, and I intend to perpetuate their graciousness in my work going forward. Furthermore, my parent’s ambition has long been instilled in my very being, as if it were genetically imprinted. I suspect that one’s family can determine the extent of one’s success. 

 Some students worry moving away from home to study at college, as a solitary and possibly, traumatizing experience. I pray that you will find that I am motivated, capable, and empathetic individual who will add value to the Texas A&M University community. I am sure that I will perform at the highest level, academically and socially while adding to the world-class reputation of the Aggie Nation. 

The sixteen month journey of my nephew’s early life, was spent eagerly waiting for him to take his first steps of many, on the long road of life. The day was fast approaching, when he would stand on his own and begin his plod. On November 28th 2015, Kai, with the help of the living room coffee table, brought his feet under him and balanced himself. His weight shifted forward and his leg raised slightly, in an attempt to repeat the movements he has seen. I watched in awe with and cheered him on hoping he would continue his first walk. Then, my brother – Brandon – did something disconcerting. In a reflexive scramble, he lunged for his cell phone to record his son’s very first steps. Although the act was seemingly innocuous, I had a hard time processing my brother’s instinctive dependence on technology to document the event. I would have a hard time convincing myself that watching my son’s first steps on the screen of my cell phone was as genuine an experience as staying in the moment with Kai. Technologically documenting your child’s milestones, as if they could be easily forgotten, symbolizes our collective surrender to corporate greed, driven social media, the retooled “industrial complex.”

I find myself barely treading water in a world of disconnected people, up to their neck in the frenzy of social buzz. I see my friends and family watch their life happen through their camera lenses, hypnotized by virtual reality. In this day and age, I count myself as a contrarian, focused on the pursuit of analogue reality. Fortunately, I am not bound by the media-set standards, and I allow myself to explore the rawest and most pure version of myself. I am thankful for life on life’s terms. I feel unobligated to share every moment with others. I often find myself daydreaming about places I have been and places I want to go. When I am in a “picture perfect” scene, I am able to appreciate it without distraction. I discover moments where the scene is so beautiful, I am unable to take my eyes off of it. These visions of beauty and peace are riveted in my mind; these memories will last forever.

 I was lucky enough to tour Italy with a group of classmates, and a good friend, Coach Hayes. The city of Rome was as exquisite as advertised. The tops of hundreds of churches dotted the skyline. The infamous Colosseum stood defiantly and majestically, bustling with tourists pulled like a magnet to it. And in Pompeii, Mount Vesuvius lorded over the clouds, shrouding its petrified tombs. Houses with ancient paintings and countless artifacts, and ashy human remains radiate for a version hyperrealism that tops any video game. I witnessed these antiquities in awe. To my mom’s dismay, I returned from the trip with few pictures, but loads of memories. The pictures I did take were great, but the experience and memories are unparalleled. 

In Timber Creek High School, I have learned many to read critically, write clearly, and to locate geographical locations around the world. Not surprisingly, I never had the chance to be enrolled in a class that taught gratitude. For me, being thankful for my blessings has become a lifestyle choice. This attitude enhances open-mindedness and allows for a broadened understanding of other’s ideas. People are more in tune to taking videos and pictures of their every waking-moment, rather than soaking up the rays of sunshine on tap nearly every day. People are bound by their technology and fail to be themselves in social situations. The gratefulness one can learn from setting one’s phone aside is freedom. I liberate myself from the strictures of our internet society, and plan to become a part of the enriched culture of real academic and social interaction in College Station.

I strap on my dad’s old bicycle helmet and dig my fingers into the cotton candy coat of fur. I wrap my legs firmly around the belly of the sheep and wait for the gate to fling open. I look through the gaps in the pen to find my dad eagerly waiting in the arena to watch his cowboy son be whipped around by a sheep twice his size. “Mutton Bustin,” we called it. This is the closest an eight-year old can get to crashing action in a small town mega-event, the Coleman County Rodeo. The rodeo clown throws the gate open, and the sheep – ferociously – tears through the arena. I endure volleys of bucks and kicks while fighting to keep dirt out of my eyes. The sheep eventually musters up enough force to catapult me from its back, and onto the dirt. I roll over to see my dad beaming at me. I won the belt buckle, along with my father’s pride. From this experience I learned to give my best and never quit. I know that I will take my competitive spirit and unwavering effort to my university studies.

Both of my parents, Michael and Rebecca were raised in a children’s home in Fort Worth, Texas. In spite of their status as orphans, my parents beat the odds and found success. They were both granted academic scholarships, and completed their degrees without a traditional support system. My father graduated from Texas A&M (1992) with a degree in human physiology, and he began his career as an E.R. physician. My mother studied nursing and became a RN. They turned their passion of helping others into their vocation, and perhaps, they are honoring the altruism of those kind souls who raised them. Following their lead, I choose to serve others as a medical doctor.

 I spent many, many hours with Dad in the hospital, following him on his rounds. For my dad, it seemed his job was more of a calling than a grind. I admire him for the passion he exudes in his work, and at an early age, I planned to follow in his footsteps. Despite having grown up in relatively affluent circumstances, I know that without their guidance and support, I would not be prepared or motivated to study medicine. I have grown up in the presence of many positive people. Following my father – Dr. Bailey – step after step has led me to pursue the same honorable vocation. 

I thank God every day for my family. My mom, Rebecca taught me some of my most important lessons in life. She taught me that one can be tough, but empathetic. She exemplifies grace under pressure while putting the needs of her loved ones at the fore. I will forever strive to attain the drive and confidence that I was shown. My parents were not given very much, only what the hospitable people of the Masonic Home and School could offer them. My parents are the ideal role models for academics and interpersonal compassion, and I intend to perpetuate their graciousness in my work going forward. Furthermore, my parent’s ambition has long been instilled in my very being, as if it were genetically imprinted. I suspect that one’s family can determine the extent of one’s success. 

 Some students worry moving away from home to study at college, as a solitary and possibly, traumatizing experience. I pray that you will find that I am motivated, capable, and empathetic individual who will add value to the Texas A&M University community. I am sure that I will perform at the highest level, academically and socially while adding to the world-class reputation of the Aggie Nation. 

The sixteen month journey of my nephew’s early life, was spent eagerly waiting for him to take his first steps of many, on the long road of life. The day was fast approaching, when he would stand on his own and begin his plod. On November 28th 2015, Kai, with the help of the living room coffee table, brought his feet under him and balanced himself. His weight shifted forward and his leg raised slightly, in an attempt to repeat the movements he has seen. I watched in awe with and cheered him on hoping he would continue his first walk. Then, my brother – Brandon – did something disconcerting. In a reflexive scramble, he lunged for his cell phone to record his son’s very first steps. Although the act was seemingly innocuous, I had a hard time processing my brother’s instinctive dependence on technology to document the event. I would have a hard time convincing myself that watching my son’s first steps on the screen of my cell phone was as genuine an experience as staying in the moment with Kai. Technologically documenting your child’s milestones, as if they could be easily forgotten, symbolizes our collective surrender to corporate greed, driven social media, the retooled “industrial complex.”

I find myself barely treading water in a world of disconnected people, up to their neck in the frenzy of social buzz. I see my friends and family watch their life happen through their camera lenses, hypnotized by virtual reality. In this day and age, I count myself as a contrarian, focused on the pursuit of analogue reality. Fortunately, I am not bound by the media-set standards, and I allow myself to explore the rawest and most pure version of myself. I am thankful for life on life’s terms. I feel unobligated to share every moment with others. I often find myself daydreaming about places I have been and places I want to go. When I am in a “picture perfect” scene, I am able to appreciate it without distraction. I discover moments where the scene is so beautiful, I am unable to take my eyes off of it. These visions of beauty and peace are riveted in my mind; these memories will last forever.

 I was lucky enough to tour Italy with a group of classmates, and a good friend, Coach Hayes. The city of Rome was as exquisite as advertised. The tops of hundreds of churches dotted the skyline. The infamous Colosseum stood defiantly and majestically, bustling with tourists pulled like a magnet to it. And in Pompeii, Mount Vesuvius lorded over the clouds, shrouding its petrified tombs. Houses with ancient paintings and countless artifacts, and ashy human remains radiate for a version hyperrealism that tops any video game. I witnessed these antiquities in awe. To my mom’s dismay, I returned from the trip with few pictures, but loads of memories. The pictures I did take were great, but the experience and memories are unparalleled. 

In Timber Creek High School, I have learned many to read critically, write clearly, and to locate geographical locations around the world. Not surprisingly, I never had the chance to be enrolled in a class that taught gratitude. For me, being thankful for my blessings has become a lifestyle choice. This attitude enhances open-mindedness and allows for a broadened understanding of other’s ideas. People are more in tune to taking videos and pictures of their every waking-moment, rather than soaking up the rays of sunshine on tap nearly every day. People are bound by their technology and fail to be themselves in social situations. The gratefulness one can learn from setting one’s phone aside is freedom. I liberate myself from the strictures of our internet society, and plan to become a part of the enriched culture of real academic and social interaction in College Station.

I strap on my dad’s old bicycle helmet and dig my fingers into the cotton candy coat of fur. I wrap my legs firmly around the belly of the sheep and wait for the gate to fling open. I look through the gaps in the pen to find my dad eagerly waiting in the arena to watch his cowboy son be whipped around by a sheep twice his size. “Mutton Bustin,” we called it. This is the closest an eight-year old can get to crashing action in a small town mega-event, the Coleman County Rodeo. The rodeo clown throws the gate open, and the sheep – ferociously – tears through the arena. I endure volleys of bucks and kicks while fighting to keep dirt out of my eyes. The sheep eventually musters up enough force to catapult me from its back, and onto the dirt. I roll over to see my dad beaming at me. I won the belt buckle, along with my father’s pride. From this experience I learned to give my best and never quit. I know that I will take my competitive spirit and unwavering effort to my university studies.

Both of my parents, Michael and Rebecca were raised in a children’s home in Fort Worth, Texas. In spite of their status as orphans, my parents beat the odds and found success. They were both granted academic scholarships, and completed their degrees without a traditional support system. My father graduated from Texas A&M (1992) with a degree in human physiology, and he began his career as an E.R. physician. My mother studied nursing and became a RN. They turned their passion of helping others into their vocation, and perhaps, they are honoring the altruism of those kind souls who raised them. Following their lead, I choose to serve others as a medical doctor.

 I spent many, many hours with Dad in the hospital, following him on his rounds. For my dad, it seemed his job was more of a calling than a grind. I admire him for the passion he exudes in his work, and at an early age, I planned to follow in his footsteps. Despite having grown up in relatively affluent circumstances, I know that without their guidance and support, I would not be prepared or motivated to study medicine. I have grown up in the presence of many positive people. Following my father – Dr. Bailey – step after step has led me to pursue the same honorable vocation. 

I thank God every day for my family. My mom, Rebecca taught me some of my most important lessons in life. She taught me that one can be tough, but empathetic. She exemplifies grace under pressure while putting the needs of her loved ones at the fore. I will forever strive to attain the drive and confidence that I was shown. My parents were not given very much, only what the hospitable people of the Masonic Home and School could offer them. My parents are the ideal role models for academics and interpersonal compassion, and I intend to perpetuate their graciousness in my work going forward. Furthermore, my parent’s ambition has long been instilled in my very being, as if it were genetically imprinted. I suspect that one’s family can determine the extent of one’s success. 

 Some students worry moving away from home to study at college, as a solitary and possibly, traumatizing experience. I pray that you will find that I am motivated, capable, and empathetic individual who will add value to the Texas A&M University community. I am sure that I will perform at the highest level, academically and socially while adding to the world-class reputation of the Aggie Nation. 

The sixteen month journey of my nephew’s early life, was spent eagerly waiting for him to take his first steps of many, on the long road of life. The day was fast approaching, when he would stand on his own and begin his plod. On November 28th 2015, Kai, with the help of the living room coffee table, brought his feet under him and balanced himself. His weight shifted forward and his leg raised slightly, in an attempt to repeat the movements he has seen. I watched in awe with and cheered him on hoping he would continue his first walk. Then, my brother – Brandon – did something disconcerting. In a reflexive scramble, he lunged for his cell phone to record his son’s very first steps. Although the act was seemingly innocuous, I had a hard time processing my brother’s instinctive dependence on technology to document the event. I would have a hard time convincing myself that watching my son’s first steps on the screen of my cell phone was as genuine an experience as staying in the moment with Kai. Technologically documenting your child’s milestones, as if they could be easily forgotten, symbolizes our collective surrender to corporate greed, driven social media, the retooled “industrial complex.”

I find myself barely treading water in a world of disconnected people, up to their neck in the frenzy of social buzz. I see my friends and family watch their life happen through their camera lenses, hypnotized by virtual reality. In this day and age, I count myself as a contrarian, focused on the pursuit of analogue reality. Fortunately, I am not bound by the media-set standards, and I allow myself to explore the rawest and most pure version of myself. I am thankful for life on life’s terms. I feel unobligated to share every moment with others. I often find myself daydreaming about places I have been and places I want to go. When I am in a “picture perfect” scene, I am able to appreciate it without distraction. I discover moments where the scene is so beautiful, I am unable to take my eyes off of it. These visions of beauty and peace are riveted in my mind; these memories will last forever.

 I was lucky enough to tour Italy with a group of classmates, and a good friend, Coach Hayes. The city of Rome was as exquisite as advertised. The tops of hundreds of churches dotted the skyline. The infamous Colosseum stood defiantly and majestically, bustling with tourists pulled like a magnet to it. And in Pompeii, Mount Vesuvius lorded over the clouds, shrouding its petrified tombs. Houses with ancient paintings and countless artifacts, and ashy human remains radiate for a version hyperrealism that tops any video game. I witnessed these antiquities in awe. To my mom’s dismay, I returned from the trip with few pictures, but loads of memories. The pictures I did take were great, but the experience and memories are unparalleled. 

In Timber Creek High School, I have learned many to read critically, write clearly, and to locate geographical locations around the world. Not surprisingly, I never had the chance to be enrolled in a class that taught gratitude. For me, being thankful for my blessings has become a lifestyle choice. This attitude enhances open-mindedness and allows for a broadened understanding of other’s ideas. People are more in tune to taking videos and pictures of their every waking-moment, rather than soaking up the rays of sunshine on tap nearly every day. People are bound by their technology and fail to be themselves in social situations. The gratefulness one can learn from setting one’s phone aside is freedom. I liberate myself from the strictures of our internet society, and plan to become a part of the enriched culture of real academic and social interaction in College Station.

I strap on my dad’s old bicycle helmet and dig my fingers into the cotton candy coat of fur. I wrap my legs firmly around the belly of the sheep and wait for the gate to fling open. I look through the gaps in the pen to find my dad eagerly waiting in the arena to watch his cowboy son be whipped around by a sheep twice his size. “Mutton Bustin,” we called it. This is the closest an eight-year old can get to crashing action in a small town mega-event, the Coleman County Rodeo. The rodeo clown throws the gate open, and the sheep – ferociously – tears through the arena. I endure volleys of bucks and kicks while fighting to keep dirt out of my eyes. The sheep eventually musters up enough force to catapult me from its back, and onto the dirt. I roll over to see my dad beaming at me. I won the belt buckle, along with my father’s pride. From this experience I learned to give my best and never quit. I know that I will take my competitive spirit and unwavering effort to my university studies.

Both of my parents, Michael and Rebecca were raised in a children’s home in Fort Worth, Texas. In spite of their status as orphans, my parents beat the odds and found success. They were both granted academic scholarships, and completed their degrees without a traditional support system. My father graduated from Texas A&M (1992) with a degree in human physiology, and he began his career as an E.R. physician. My mother studied nursing and became a RN. They turned their passion of helping others into their vocation, and perhaps, they are honoring the altruism of those kind souls who raised them. Following their lead, I choose to serve others as a medical doctor.

 I spent many, many hours with Dad in the hospital, following him on his rounds. For my dad, it seemed his job was more of a calling than a grind. I admire him for the passion he exudes in his work, and at an early age, I planned to follow in his footsteps. Despite having grown up in relatively affluent circumstances, I know that without their guidance and support, I would not be prepared or motivated to study medicine. I have grown up in the presence of many positive people. Following my father – Dr. Bailey – step after step has led me to pursue the same honorable vocation. 

I thank God every day for my family. My mom, Rebecca taught me some of my most important lessons in life. She taught me that one can be tough, but empathetic. She exemplifies grace under pressure while putting the needs of her loved ones at the fore. I will forever strive to attain the drive and confidence that I was shown. My parents were not given very much, only what the hospitable people of the Masonic Home and School could offer them. My parents are the ideal role models for academics and interpersonal compassion, and I intend to perpetuate their graciousness in my work going forward. Furthermore, my parent’s ambition has long been instilled in my very being, as if it were genetically imprinted. I suspect that one’s family can determine the extent of one’s success. 

 Some students worry moving away from home to study at college, as a solitary and possibly, traumatizing experience. I pray that you will find that I am motivated, capable, and empathetic individual who will add value to the Texas A&M University community. I am sure that I will perform at the highest level, academically and socially while adding to the world-class reputation of the Aggie Nation. 

The sixteen month journey of my nephew’s early life, was spent eagerly waiting for him to take his first steps of many, on the long road of life. The day was fast approaching, when he would stand on his own and begin his plod. On November 28th 2015, Kai, with the help of the living room coffee table, brought his feet under him and balanced himself. His weight shifted forward and his leg raised slightly, in an attempt to repeat the movements he has seen. I watched in awe with and cheered him on hoping he would continue his first walk. Then, my brother – Brandon – did something disconcerting. In a reflexive scramble, he lunged for his cell phone to record his son’s very first steps. Although the act was seemingly innocuous, I had a hard time processing my brother’s instinctive dependence on technology to document the event. I would have a hard time convincing myself that watching my son’s first steps on the screen of my cell phone was as genuine an experience as staying in the moment with Kai. Technologically documenting your child’s milestones, as if they could be easily forgotten, symbolizes our collective surrender to corporate greed, driven social media, the retooled “industrial complex.”

I find myself barely treading water in a world of disconnected people, up to their neck in the frenzy of social buzz. I see my friends and family watch their life happen through their camera lenses, hypnotized by virtual reality. In this day and age, I count myself as a contrarian, focused on the pursuit of analogue reality. Fortunately, I am not bound by the media-set standards, and I allow myself to explore the rawest and most pure version of myself. I am thankful for life on life’s terms. I feel unobligated to share every moment with others. I often find myself daydreaming about places I have been and places I want to go. When I am in a “picture perfect” scene, I am able to appreciate it without distraction. I discover moments where the scene is so beautiful, I am unable to take my eyes off of it. These visions of beauty and peace are riveted in my mind; these memories will last forever.

 I was lucky enough to tour Italy with a group of classmates, and a good friend, Coach Hayes. The city of Rome was as exquisite as advertised. The tops of hundreds of churches dotted the skyline. The infamous Colosseum stood defiantly and majestically, bustling with tourists pulled like a magnet to it. And in Pompeii, Mount Vesuvius lorded over the clouds, shrouding its petrified tombs. Houses with ancient paintings and countless artifacts, and ashy human remains radiate for a version hyperrealism that tops any video game. I witnessed these antiquities in awe. To my mom’s dismay, I returned from the trip with few pictures, but loads of memories. The pictures I did take were great, but the experience and memories are unparalleled. 

In Timber Creek High School, I have learned many to read critically, write clearly, and to locate geographical locations around the world. Not surprisingly, I never had the chance to be enrolled in a class that taught gratitude. For me, being thankful for my blessings has become a lifestyle choice. This attitude enhances open-mindedness and allows for a broadened understanding of other’s ideas. People are more in tune to taking videos and pictures of their every waking-moment, rather than soaking up the rays of sunshine on tap nearly every day. People are bound by their technology and fail to be themselves in social situations. The gratefulness one can learn from setting one’s phone aside is freedom. I liberate myself from the strictures of our internet society, and plan to become a part of the enriched culture of real academic and social interaction in College Station.

I strap on my dad’s old bicycle helmet and dig my fingers into the cotton candy coat of fur. I wrap my legs firmly around the belly of the sheep and wait for the gate to fling open. I look through the gaps in the pen to find my dad eagerly waiting in the arena to watch his cowboy son be whipped around by a sheep twice his size. “Mutton Bustin,” we called it. This is the closest an eight-year old can get to crashing action in a small town mega-event, the Coleman County Rodeo. The rodeo clown throws the gate open, and the sheep – ferociously – tears through the arena. I endure volleys of bucks and kicks while fighting to keep dirt out of my eyes. The sheep eventually musters up enough force to catapult me from its back, and onto the dirt. I roll over to see my dad beaming at me. I won the belt buckle, along with my father’s pride. From this experience I learned to give my best and never quit. I know that I will take my competitive spirit and unwavering effort to my university studies.

Both of my parents, Michael and Rebecca were raised in a children’s home in Fort Worth, Texas. In spite of their status as orphans, my parents beat the odds and found success. They were both granted academic scholarships, and completed their degrees without a traditional support system. My father graduated from Texas A&M (1992) with a degree in human physiology, and he began his career as an E.R. physician. My mother studied nursing and became a RN. They turned their passion of helping others into their vocation, and perhaps, they are honoring the altruism of those kind souls who raised them. Following their lead, I choose to serve others as a medical doctor.

 I spent many, many hours with Dad in the hospital, following him on his rounds. For my dad, it seemed his job was more of a calling than a grind. I admire him for the passion he exudes in his work, and at an early age, I planned to follow in his footsteps. Despite having grown up in relatively affluent circumstances, I know that without their guidance and support, I would not be prepared or motivated to study medicine. I have grown up in the presence of many positive people. Following my father – Dr. Bailey – step after step has led me to pursue the same honorable vocation. 

I thank God every day for my family. My mom, Rebecca taught me some of my most important lessons in life. She taught me that one can be tough, but empathetic. She exemplifies grace under pressure while putting the needs of her loved ones at the fore. I will forever strive to attain the drive and confidence that I was shown. My parents were not given very much, only what the hospitable people of the Masonic Home and School could offer them. My parents are the ideal role models for academics and interpersonal compassion, and I intend to perpetuate their graciousness in my work going forward. Furthermore, my parent’s ambition has long been instilled in my very being, as if it were genetically imprinted. I suspect that one’s family can determine the extent of one’s success. 

 Some students worry moving away from home to study at college, as a solitary and possibly, traumatizing experience. I pray that you will find that I am motivated, capable, and empathetic individual who will add value to the Texas A&M University community. I am sure that I will perform at the highest level, academically and socially while adding to the world-class reputation of the Aggie Nation. 

The sixteen month journey of my nephew’s early life, was spent eagerly waiting for him to take his first steps of many, on the long road of life. The day was fast approaching, when he would stand on his own and begin his plod. On November 28th 2015, Kai, with the help of the living room coffee table, brought his feet under him and balanced himself. His weight shifted forward and his leg raised slightly, in an attempt to repeat the movements he has seen. I watched in awe with and cheered him on hoping he would continue his first walk. Then, my brother – Brandon – did something disconcerting. In a reflexive scramble, he lunged for his cell phone to record his son’s very first steps. Although the act was seemingly innocuous, I had a hard time processing my brother’s instinctive dependence on technology to document the event. I would have a hard time convincing myself that watching my son’s first steps on the screen of my cell phone was as genuine an experience as staying in the moment with Kai. Technologically documenting your child’s milestones, as if they could be easily forgotten, symbolizes our collective surrender to corporate greed, driven social media, the retooled “industrial complex.”

I find myself barely treading water in a world of disconnected people, up to their neck in the frenzy of social buzz. I see my friends and family watch their life happen through their camera lenses, hypnotized by virtual reality. In this day and age, I count myself as a contrarian, focused on the pursuit of analogue reality. Fortunately, I am not bound by the media-set standards, and I allow myself to explore the rawest and most pure version of myself. I am thankful for life on life’s terms. I feel unobligated to share every moment with others. I often find myself daydreaming about places I have been and places I want to go. When I am in a “picture perfect” scene, I am able to appreciate it without distraction. I discover moments where the scene is so beautiful, I am unable to take my eyes off of it. These visions of beauty and peace are riveted in my mind; these memories will last forever.

 I was lucky enough to tour Italy with a group of classmates, and a good friend, Coach Hayes. The city of Rome was as exquisite as advertised. The tops of hundreds of churches dotted the skyline. The infamous Colosseum stood defiantly and majestically, bustling with tourists pulled like a magnet to it. And in Pompeii, Mount Vesuvius lorded over the clouds, shrouding its petrified tombs. Houses with ancient paintings and countless artifacts, and ashy human remains radiate for a version hyperrealism that tops any video game. I witnessed these antiquities in awe. To my mom’s dismay, I returned from the trip with few pictures, but loads of memories. The pictures I did take were great, but the experience and memories are unparalleled. 

In Timber Creek High School, I have learned many to read critically, write clearly, and to locate geographical locations around the world. Not surprisingly, I never had the chance to be enrolled in a class that taught gratitude. For me, being thankful for my blessings has become a lifestyle choice. This attitude enhances open-mindedness and allows for a broadened understanding of other’s ideas. People are more in tune to taking videos and pictures of their every waking-moment, rather than soaking up the rays of sunshine on tap nearly every day. People are bound by their technology and fail to be themselves in social situations. The gratefulness one can learn from setting one’s phone aside is freedom. I liberate myself from the strictures of our internet society, and plan to become a part of the enriched culture of real academic and social interaction in College Station.

I strap on my dad’s old bicycle helmet and dig my fingers into the cotton candy coat of fur. I wrap my legs firmly around the belly of the sheep and wait for the gate to fling open. I look through the gaps in the pen to find my dad eagerly waiting in the arena to watch his cowboy son be whipped around by a sheep twice his size. “Mutton Bustin,” we called it. This is the closest an eight-year old can get to crashing action in a small town mega-event, the Coleman County Rodeo. The rodeo clown throws the gate open, and the sheep – ferociously – tears through the arena. I endure volleys of bucks and kicks while fighting to keep dirt out of my eyes. The sheep eventually musters up enough force to catapult me from its back, and onto the dirt. I roll over to see my dad beaming at me. I won the belt buckle, along with my father’s pride. From this experience I learned to give my best and never quit. I know that I will take my competitive spirit and unwavering effort to my university studies.

Both of my parents, Michael and Rebecca were raised in a children’s home in Fort Worth, Texas. In spite of their status as orphans, my parents beat the odds and found success. They were both granted academic scholarships, and completed their degrees without a traditional support system. My father graduated from Texas A&M (1992) with a degree in human physiology, and he began his career as an E.R. physician. My mother studied nursing and became a RN. They turned their passion of helping others into their vocation, and perhaps, they are honoring the altruism of those kind souls who raised them. Following their lead, I choose to serve others as a medical doctor.

 I spent many, many hours with Dad in the hospital, following him on his rounds. For my dad, it seemed his job was more of a calling than a grind. I admire him for the passion he exudes in his work, and at an early age, I planned to follow in his footsteps. Despite having grown up in relatively affluent circumstances, I know that without their guidance and support, I would not be prepared or motivated to study medicine. I have grown up in the presence of many positive people. Following my father – Dr. Bailey – step after step has led me to pursue the same honorable vocation. 

I thank God every day for my family. My mom, Rebecca taught me some of my most important lessons in life. She taught me that one can be tough, but empathetic. She exemplifies grace under pressure while putting the needs of her loved ones at the fore. I will forever strive to attain the drive and confidence that I was shown. My parents were not given very much, only what the hospitable people of the Masonic Home and School could offer them. My parents are the ideal role models for academics and interpersonal compassion, and I intend to perpetuate their graciousness in my work going forward. Furthermore, my parent’s ambition has long been instilled in my very being, as if it were genetically imprinted. I suspect that one’s family can determine the extent of one’s success. 

 Some students worry moving away from home to study at college, as a solitary and possibly, traumatizing experience. I pray that you will find that I am motivated, capable, and empathetic individual who will add value to the Texas A&M University community. I am sure that I will perform at the highest level, academically and socially while adding to the world-class reputation of the Aggie Nation. 

The sixteen month journey of my nephew’s early life, was spent eagerly waiting for him to take his first steps of many, on the long road of life. The day was fast approaching, when he would stand on his own and begin his plod. On November 28th 2015, Kai, with the help of the living room coffee table, brought his feet under him and balanced himself. His weight shifted forward and his leg raised slightly, in an attempt to repeat the movements he has seen. I watched in awe with and cheered him on hoping he would continue his first walk. Then, my brother – Brandon – did something disconcerting. In a reflexive scramble, he lunged for his cell phone to record his son’s very first steps. Although the act was seemingly innocuous, I had a hard time processing my brother’s instinctive dependence on technology to document the event. I would have a hard time convincing myself that watching my son’s first steps on the screen of my cell phone was as genuine an experience as staying in the moment with Kai. Technologically documenting your child’s milestones, as if they could be easily forgotten, symbolizes our collective surrender to corporate greed, driven social media, the retooled “industrial complex.”

I find myself barely treading water in a world of disconnected people, up to their neck in the frenzy of social buzz. I see my friends and family watch their life happen through their camera lenses, hypnotized by virtual reality. In this day and age, I count myself as a contrarian, focused on the pursuit of analogue reality. Fortunately, I am not bound by the media-set standards, and I allow myself to explore the rawest and most pure version of myself. I am thankful for life on life’s terms. I feel unobligated to share every moment with others. I often find myself daydreaming about places I have been and places I want to go. When I am in a “picture perfect” scene, I am able to appreciate it without distraction. I discover moments where the scene is so beautiful, I am unable to take my eyes off of it. These visions of beauty and peace are riveted in my mind; these memories will last forever.

 I was lucky enough to tour Italy with a group of classmates, and a good friend, Coach Hayes. The city of Rome was as exquisite as advertised. The tops of hundreds of churches dotted the skyline. The infamous Colosseum stood defiantly and majestically, bustling with tourists pulled like a magnet to it. And in Pompeii, Mount Vesuvius lorded over the clouds, shrouding its petrified tombs. Houses with ancient paintings and countless artifacts, and ashy human remains radiate for a version hyperrealism that tops any video game. I witnessed these antiquities in awe. To my mom’s dismay, I returned from the trip with few pictures, but loads of memories. The pictures I did take were great, but the experience and memories are unparalleled. 

In Timber Creek High School, I have learned many to read critically, write clearly, and to locate geographical locations around the world. Not surprisingly, I never had the chance to be enrolled in a class that taught gratitude. For me, being thankful for my blessings has become a lifestyle choice. This attitude enhances open-mindedness and allows for a broadened understanding of other’s ideas. People are more in tune to taking videos and pictures of their every waking-moment, rather than soaking up the rays of sunshine on tap nearly every day. People are bound by their technology and fail to be themselves in social situations. The gratefulness one can learn from setting one’s phone aside is freedom. I liberate myself from the strictures of our internet society, and plan to become a part of the enriched culture of real academic and social interaction in College Station.