C.R.E.A.M.
A new rendition of our “more perfect Union”
Drawing my inspiration from the poetic Wu Tang Clan, I believe “cash rules everything around me. C.R.E.A.M. Get tha money! Dolla dolla bills y’all.” Contrary to the greedy appearance of their words, these lyrics encompass far more than a zest for money. They represent the Wu Tang Clan’s life story—a tale of nine friends brought up in the slums of Staten Island surrounded by “corrupt cops, crack rocks and stray (gun) shots”. Despite uncontrollable impediments, the Wu Tang Clan nine escaped poverty and left their enduring mark on the history of hip hop. To this day, the narrative of the Wu Tang Clan captivates the hearts of the hip-hop youth and endows their souls with the courage needed to overcome life’s trials. For me, the Wu Tang Clan’s background embodies the classic struggle of youth at war with adversity and circumstance. With unmet goals and audacious hopes, I still dream untamed dreams. Ever since my fourth grade class elected me the ‘most likely to be president,’ I direct my academic and extracurricular enterprises to accomplish my one aim in life: to become President of the United States of America.
Initially, to fund my ascent toward the White House, I rented my soul to Congressional Debate. Week in, at home, I cyber-stalk the president addressing the Syrian crisis, surf the surges and slumps in the stock market, and compose Senatorial speeches. Week out, at tournaments, I dine on overpriced nachos and starve myself of greatly desired sleep. Friday consists of a perpetual cycle of speech preparing, printing, practicing and performing. Saturday constitutes the final stretch, the last day before the voting booths close. In my speeches, I presumably mention “Obama” 44 times, “America” 50 times, “Congress” 113 times, “the economy” 2013 times; in my rounds, I argue for increased cyber-security in America and against arming South Korea with nuclear weapons; at these tournaments, I emulate the personality of a Congressman so that I may comprehend the meaning of representing the people. Additionally, my efforts concentrate on the accomplishments of my fellow team members. At the after-school practices held every week, I support the younger members of my team. I hone in on their strengths; I help them overcome their nerves; I arm them with lessons from my years in Congressional Debate. Every tournament is a new episode in a long running series and every awards ceremony a congratulation on the team’s cohesive perseverance. Through my time in debate, I strengthen my capacity to “speak pretty” and familiarize myself with teamwork, skills essential to any presidential campaign.
Furthermore, like all great statesmen, part of my game plan for the presidency includes connecting with my constituents and servicing my community. In my school’s PALS program, I mentor Robert—a kindergartner at a local elementary school who loves wrestling with his brother, camping and discovering treasure and aspires to enlist in the US Marines. Ever since I tore apart the barriers of silence and awkwardness, I caught chicken pox for the second time, always itching to return to his school. With every passing week, freeze-tag, coloring sessions and crafts augment the strength of our friendship. For his entertainment, I disassemble the ironed-out ideals of sympathy, ambition and honesty and mold them like Play-doh into an armor of integrity that fits snugly. I revisit the dusty shelves of my childhood and ensure he collects memories that age like wine. Every week I return to my little buddy to earn a smile on his face and deliver hope for his future. And when I reminisce on the evenings I invest with Robert, I surmise that I left my mark. That within the few seconds I enter his life, I will alter the course of years to come. Such actions display deeper promise than a politician’s handshake and greater care than a politician kissing babies on the forehead.
Realistically, I acknowledge that vying for the Oval Office requires more than schmoozing with voters or “speaking pretty”. Hoping to fulfill John F. Kennedy’s 1960 challenge, I “ask not what (my) country can do for (me), but (rather I) ask what (I) can do for (my) country.” In adhering to Kennedy’s American credence, I hear Uncle Sam’s call: inside me dwells a future officer of the US Navy. I ache to sail and “represent the fighting spirit of the Navy and those who have gone before me to defend freedom and democracy around the world.”. As a consequence of birth, I profess to be an American citizen. However, as a consequence of choice, I accept the duties citizens inherit. I must protect this “more perfect Union” founded long ago by the tenacity of a courageous people against the tyrant of the era and the currents of history.
Ultimately, my presidential legacy rests on one last tenant: the degree to which I prepare myself for the office I seek. Debate, PALS and my disposition to serve in the Navy fine tune my character, but have not sufficiently molded me for the presidency. To further my training, I desire acceptance into the Business Honors Program at the University of Texas and subsequently, into law school. Upon completion, I anticipate serving as an officer and lawyer in the United States Navy. An extension of my service to my country, I plan on founding an educational nonprofit to invest Uncle Sam’s nieces and nephews just my mother did for me…I aspire for a future of this nature, because my story beckons me to emerge victorious in the classic struggle of youth at war with adversity and circumstance. Growing up, I never knew the comfort of a two-parent home. I missed out on the simplicity of attending anything less than 16 schools before graduation. As a child, I witnessed the pains of starting anew after our apartment burned down in the fourth grade. At various points of my school career, I resided in a home that struggled to routinely provide a meal after school. An element of my pride wishes that I not classify these circumstances as impediments to my achievement, academically or in my community. For the entirety of my school career, I labored and overcame, proving true the Wu Tang mantra that “working hard may help (me) maintain to learn to overcome the heartaches and pain”. Soon, backed by the fortifying trinity of Debate, PALS and naval service and chiseled by the rigors of the Business Honors program, I can disprove the notion that success needs two parents and a fair start. I can refute the statistics that dismay numerous Mexican-Americans from dreaming untamed dreams. I will leave my enduring mark on the history of this nation—not necessarily as the first Hispanic president, but as the first president of a complete America: a new rendition of our “more perfect Union”, an America where ambition “rules everything around me”.
