In primary school, I received the best gift I could have asked for: my very own box of band aids. They were mustard yellow and decorated with the face of a Korean cartoon character, but I didn’t care what they looked like. I was ready to officially step into my role as the family doctor.
That year, I grew into my self-appointed duties. I practiced perfect band aid application until I could administer them smoothly and without bumps in the adhesive. Eventually I upgraded from the box of band aids stored in my Poochie & Co. dog purse, to a full first aid kit. It consisted of the essentials: band aids, Neosporin, hand sanitizer, icy hot and more, all of which were collected from the depths of our medicine cabinet one weekend night, while my parents were busy watching television. I proudly displayed my collection of equipment anytime the members of my family got remotely injured (usually it was my mom getting cut while cooking), and my parents began to call on me whenever they required medical assistance. I was never happier than when I was wiping blood off of cuts and carefully placing a band aid on the wound. As the youngest in the household, I reveled in the feeling of being useful and needed.
However, along with my transition to being trusted with my family’s well being, it became apparent to me that there was more to be tended to than just their physical conditions. My overly observant nature caused me to be aware of every decision and dialogue that could affect their mood. I calculated my actions for the happiest possible outcome, which usually meant I sucked up to my parents or laughed at an unfunny joke. Additionally, I became a mediator of sorts, though it took a while for me to work up the courage to speak up.
All of these experiences had originally convinced me that I wanted to be a doctor. But some deliberation has pulled me back from that path. My joy in helping my family might have stemmed from a childish longing for control. Or maybe it was a “love language” of sorts. I still consider myself the “family doctor”, and I will always keep a box of band aids handy.
*Author's note: I need to expand on a lot of details and add reflection. Let me know if there is an aspect that you think I should reflect on more!
I love your introduction! Your tone of voice throughout the essay is really good, you keep it conversational while including some of the heavier reflective topics. I also love the ending and how you keep it open ended. Somethings you could add in your reflection is how focusing on their mood affected you (expand on the idea of control and love language, did trying to improve their happiness impact your well-being?) and deeper dive into the affect it had on your relationship with others (negative or positive?).
ReplyDeleteGood narrative you have going on here. I thought it was really cute and I feel like its very honest so I get to know you better. Tone is good too. For reflection, maybe think about the implications and concequences of trying to produce the happiest outcome. Is this a good or bad thing? You can explore perspectives with this too. You could also expand on what pulled you back from wanting to be a doctor if you think its relevant.
ReplyDeleteI like this essay because I can see something great brewing within. You have a lot of words left at your disposal and using them would only make your story even better. I think right now you have a nice narrative in your second paragraph but the last two just seem a bit short and in need of "beefing up." Because I think you have set yourself up really nicely in your second paragraph, talking more about how your time as the family doctor led you to start thinking deeply about your family, adding more reflection should be a breeze. Great work!
ReplyDeleteI think you have a really good start to your essay with great ideas that you could expand on a lot. Your introduction could be a bit more interesting--instead of telling the reader that you were excited to receive the band aids, you could show it through some sort of narration. I think the main thing you need to work on is really expanding on the transition to the last paragraph. You make a big jump from taking care of physical wounds to becoming a mediator in your family. As you grew older, what caused the transition from being happy to help your family to realizing that there were different wounds that you needed to help fix?
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