collegeresume_final.docx | |
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My College Story:
"Finder's Keepers"
I opened my eyes to blackness. I wasn't breathing. A hard surface engulfed me as I scrambled to figure a way out. Crunch! I punched through my enclosure and felt myself take my first breath of air as I fell into a sandy pit. I clawed the sand until I had finally broken its surface. As I looked around, I realized I was alone; no one else had come up yet. As I climbed through a diamond ring of metal, I heard a distant conversation. "I'm going to check the nests in the terrapin hatchery," a girl chirped. As she approached, she discovered me outside the so-called 'hatchery' and squealed excitedly. Two huge human hands gently picked me up and flew me through the air; my finder prated about her luck. I could tell that this blonde-haired, blue-eyed teen had handled hatchlings before. Peacefully, I rested in her palm and succumbed to wherever she planned to take me.
I look back and realize she saved my life that day. I now know that I wasn't supposed to be able to climb through that chain-linked fence; I was supposed to stay in my hatchery safe-haven. If Courtney Tierney didn't find me, I could have gotten lost, hit by a car, or eaten! Additionally, my siblings in the nests could have woken up and unknowingly walked into danger as I almost did. It was pure coincidence that the moment I stepped beyond the gates of the hatchery was the exact moment that Courtney appeared. Even though I was the one who could have died, Courtney still thought she was the lucky one. Her caring nature couldn't stop her from nurturing me, only a stranger to her!
While I grew up in the Hatchling Head-Start Program, I was able to witness all events that happened at High Bar Harbor Hatchery, and this permanently shoeless girl was always as excited to be there as the first day I met her. She isn't the most coordinated human I have seen walking around, even if she tripped and fell, she would get up while chuckling, "At least I wasn't holding anything." There was never a note of negativity in her voice, even when others joked about the ironically clumsy gymnast, she laughed right along with them.
I am so glad Court has always found time for me. Even after months, she always cared for me with the same joyful enthusiasm, never failing to brighten my day. She keeps busy, always coming from gymnastics practice, coaching at work, collecting nest data for her independent research project ("Micro-Environmental Effects on Terrapin Nests"), volunteering at the hospital, or even just taking a moment to breathe in the view down the path past the hatchery that frames the lighthouse in sailboats and shrubbery. She runs from one task to the next, giving her full attention to the job in front of her. If she couldn't do something, she would watch others until she quickly picked up the trade. No matter what, even after turtle sidewalk-chalk drawings with the seven-year old neighbor, she never forgot about me. I will never forget her either.
Sadly, I must say goodbye; I'm being released into the real world for the first time. Although it's frightening to be put into a new environment, I know Court will be doing the same soon. While I make the bay my new home, she will make her college a new home. I have learned how to look at the world the way Courtney does: through caring eyes and with an open mind. She gives me the courage to step out into the world with confidence and taught me that I am lucky, even if I stumble and fall, and that it is okay to laugh at myself.