Second Chance Scholarship

“She might not be in accelerated classes.” “Amber is never getting a driver’s license.” “Your daughter will never go to college.” When a physician’s words diagnosed four-year-old me with autism, my parents were shocked and heartbroken. For three days, my distraught mother sobbed about how her special-needs daughter would struggle in life while my distressed father questioned what solution there would be. Finally, my mother’s emotions shifted from despair to determination, and my father swallowed his doubt. My parents decided to start working on how to motivate me. It took years for my folks to urge my motivation. They encouraged me to get out of my comfort zone, but I refused to cooperate. I had no interest in reading to myself. Trying out for clubs and sports was not my style. All I preferred eating was chicken nuggets, cheese pizza, and burritos. Childish habits of watching useless tv shows and movies, reading books too easy for my level, playing obnoxious music, and throwing tantrums, went on for ages. By early adolescence, the question of “What am I doing?” hit me. Figuring out how I wasted time with nonsense, my act shaped up. I transformed from an immature, picky-eater not wanting to complete her homework; to a young teenager willing to clean her plate and execute her schoolwork. My socialization still needed work, but I began befriending multiple people. What needed growth was my willingness to step out of my comfort zone. Around late elementary school, a spark of wanting to be a writer ignited. The only problem was not feeling ready to push my limits. Even after winning an Ohio State Fair Agriculture Essay Scholarship in fifth grade, my opinion still did not change about leaving my comfort zone. Attending Thurber House writing classes and Power of the Pen never helped stimulate impulses in publishing novels. Unfortunately, my dream of becoming a writer faded. One day in eighth-grade, my algebra-one teacher mentioned the new college credit plus program. Initially, I wanted to decline. Later, my parents explained that I could skip a grade by taking college courses earlier. Those words “skip a grade” lit my eyes. Although most of my friends are younger than me, I used to feel uncomfortable being the eldest. That memory taught me that my wings would stay folded up for not challenging myself. I finally started appreciating my strong academic talents and joined this college program. Still, I wanted to take the easy way out. Leading up to my high school junior year, I began enjoying mathematics. My precalculus teacher structured her course to be a casual conversation, interesting me more than photography, my chosen major back then. After my father convinced me to become an actuary, he played ‘The Accountant’ movie. While I do not desire entanglement in situations protagonist Christian Wolff encountered, the thought of becoming an actuary or accountant captivated me. I started thanking my past-self for equipping math, and regretting not appreciating math sooner. For a second chance, I need to win this scholarship for university. My plans are to attend the honor college of Otterbein University, a private four-year university, to double major in math and actuarial science for a bachelor’s degree. Its total cost is $46,562, and earning $31,130 in scholarships and $5,500 in loans is still not enough. This will be a make-up to my parents, who still pay their student loans for almost thirty years. I risk of being in debt because I have autism. My parents raised me to have a better future and deserve more for me.

At the early age of four, I stood behind a closed bathroom door yelling, “Mom, please let me in, I have to go to the bathroom so bad!” “Just stay out there for a second.” I was told, as my bladder grew heavier. I couldn’t hold it anymore, so I finally burst into the bathroom, even though my mother had told me to wait. I looked up at her and saw a bra strap squeezing her bicep and a needle in her vein. Immediately I knew what she was doing and unfortunately it wasn’t the only time I had seen something like that. On multiple occasions, I walked into the living room to see my mother passed out on the couch, barely responsive because she took too many pills. Or I would walk into the bathroom and see her passed out on the toilet. I look back now and feel bad for my mom. She probably turned to drugs because she was raising two kids by herself while making less than minimum wage. My dad wasn’t able to help out much because he was in prison just about every year of my childhood. He would get out for a few months, steal something or get caught with drugs, and end up back in prison for a couple of years. When I was about six years old I had to live with my gram because my mom and dad both ended up in prison. My gram is my savior and the most selfless person I’ve ever met. She took in my brother and me while working the night shift at a cabinet factory. She didn’t make a lot of money and a lot of the time we barely had groceries. If there wasn’t enough of something we had, and she couldn’t afford more, she always ensured that my brother and I had what we needed before she considered herself. I always did good in grade school but in middle school, I hit a rough patch. I started hanging with the wrong people and making wrong choices. I was out one night with friends way past curfew, and the cops stopped us. I got a fine for being out past curfew and I was taken back to my gram’s house. Of course, when I got home I was getting yelled at, so I started acting like I didn’t care about my future and that I would be just fine. However, in the back of my mind, I felt so ashamed for disappointing my gram. This woman raised me to be the opposite of my parents. She wanted me to have a bright future with a good education, she didn’t want me to end up doing drugs and going to prison, like my parents. That is when I realized that I needed to do something great in my life, I didn’t want to end up like my parents. I stopped talking to the people I was getting in trouble with and got a better group of friends. I started to do better in school, I went from getting C’s and D’s to straight A’s. There is no better feeling than bringing my report cards home and seeing my gram teary-eyed, telling me how proud she is. My next step to better my future would be becoming one of the first people in my family to get a college degree. I want to prove to everyone, especially my gram, that I will end up nothing like my parents and I will do something great with my future.