#feedbackfriday This is the About Me page on my website. Was looking for any suggestions: Hi, I’m Alex Vermont, and a few years ago, I was stuck in a rut. It felt like my life had no meaning…no direction…no purpose. I felt lost. Confused. Broken. And to make things worse, I had no idea how to fix things. But eventually I came to the realization that I needed to take back control of my life. And so I made a decision: my life was going to matter. I was going to make a change. And that journey all started with a simple letter… I was nervous. The letter was due in in less than five hours and the only thing I had managed to type was my name…and it wasn’t even spelled correctly. Normally I wouldn’t be so stressed out over a letter…but then again, this wasn’t just any letter. This was a ticket. A ticket to a better and brighter future. A ticket to the unknown. A ticket to adventure…to accomplishing a childhood dream. You see, I was applying to a Research Experience for Undergraduates program, or REU as the cool kids call it these days. These were programs funded by the National Science Foundation, NASA, National Institute of Health, etc to help promising students break into the sciences and get hands-on research training. They are highly competitive, but if you’re lucky enough to get accepted, it could mean big things for your future. I had the grades. The extracurriculars. The community service. There was just one problem…they wanted to know about me. And here I was- completely stuck, struggling to overcome my Everest, mocked by the blinking cursor on the white canvas, with absolutely no idea what to write. Ironic, isn’t it? Give me any topic and I can weave you a tale to rival history’s greatest bards. Ask me to write about myself and I freeze up like Tommy Boy trying to explain how you can get a good look at a t-bone by sticking your head up a butcher’s ass…No, wait. It’s gotta be your bull. After what seemed like hours of staring at the soul sucking, white abyss of my word document, I remembered the advice I received after every failed attempt at trying to get a date: Just be yourself. “Okay,” I thought to myself. “I still don’t know what the hell that means, but here we go.” And so I typed… The road was treacherous. Every step further agitated the blisters formed underneath my feat. My entire body was on the verge of systematically shutting down. I wanted to stop and head back. But what I refer to as determination, and what others call stubbornness, willed me to continue. I wanted to reach the top. No. I needed to reach the top. After all, this was no longer about exploration. This was a test of will. I had been hiking for nearly two hours without a break. I estimated there were about fifteen steps left to the mountain top. Forty-seven agonizing steps later, I finally reached my destination. The unforgiving road was behind me and all the aches and pains that plagued my body were replaced by serenity. The surrounding beauty filled me with peace. That is until I noticed the paved road that I missed before my ascent. Two roads were before me, one physically and mentally pushed me to my limits. The other mocked me with its railing and soft pavement. Two roads diverged on the mountain, and I took the road that nearly killed me. I took solace in the thought that perhaps one day, I would be able to tell others that I took the road less traveled and it made all the difference. “Woah. Where the hell did that come from?” I asked myself. “No…No…keep going. Don’t stop.” I believe that there are two types of people in the world: those who look back in anger and those who look back in appreciation. It certainly would have been reasonable to be angry for not realizing there was an easier path towards my destination. However, the difficulty I endured is what made the painful climb so worthwhile. Every blister and sun burnt area of skin was a trophy of my accomplishment. Like many others, my life has been filled with many intricate paths. However, I have come to appreciate every complicated moment I have experienced. For every trial has shaped me into the man I am today. It was as if I lost complete control of my hands. They were writing at will, and I just sat there, mesmerized by their feverish pace. You see, I was raised in what others called a “broken home.” I was surrounded by addiction, abuse, and poverty. It was a Saturday when my mother decided that a single parent household was healthier than what we were enduring. She became a single mother and I the man of the house. It was the following Monday when I was hired by the local newspaper. Some referred to me as the paper boy. I referred to myself as a news delivery technician. I took great pride in my craft. My customers depended on me to learn of the events around the world, and I depended on them to help feed and clothe my two younger brothers. Before I knew it, I was moving into my dorm at Arizona State University, excited to begin my journey into the world of Kinesiology. Unfortunately, much like my adolescence, my experience at ASU ended quickly. In my absence my mom had been diagnosed with diabetes, a disease that had claimed many lives in our Hispanic community. My mother’s health was diminishing, my brothers were in pain, and… After hours of dedicated and focused writing, I finally had a draft. It spanned five entire pages. Unfortunately, I was required to keep it within two. And so I edited. At first I just cut here and there, but then I realized who my audience was. You know, really smart people. People with fancy titles. Degrees. Knowledge. People who wore lab coats…and probably monocles. I needed to up the finesse a little. Talk like them. Speak their language. And so I brought out the thesaurus… Do you remember that episode of FRIENDS where Joey discovered the thesaurus? Monica: All right, what was this sentence originally? Joey: Oh. “They are warm, nice people with big hearts.” Chandler: And that became, “They are humid, pre-possessing homosapiens with full-sized aortic pumps?” Joey: Yeah. Yeah. And hey…I really mean it dude. I totally thesaurused my letter. In my pursuit to sound smart, I sounded like a total dumb ass. Thankfully I kept my original draft in another folder. Just be yourself, right? I grabbed it and submitted it to the REU application folder with about 30 minutes to spare before the deadline. The only thing to do now was wait… Storytelling is a funny thing, isn’t it? It’s one of the most powerful tools we have in our communication arsenal…but we rarely utilize it. And on the few occasions that we do, we’re kind of terrible at it. We get too caught up in our heads. And then we assume it’s a skill that we’re either born with or doomed to live without, but nothing could be further from the truth. You can learn to weave captivating and powerful stories. And you can use those stories to make a difference. Want to get more donations to your charity? Tell a story that tugs at the reader’s heart strings. Want to finally meet the person who completes you? You know, your soul mate? Write a story about the incredible adventure that is your life. Want to increase the sales of your product? Write a story that shows your audience you completely understand their needs…even if they don’t fully understand them. A story can do a lot for you. With the right story, you can move mountains. And you can definitely learn the art. I can show you… Oh, and just in case you were wondering. That letter ended up awarding me two separate REU experiences. One in Maine and the other in Puerto Rico. That letter earned me scholarships to present my research all over the United States…and it earned me a position as a research technician at an oceanographic institute before I even graduated college. A two page letter with a short story completely changed my life… …and a good story can do the same for you. And like I said, I will show you how. Alexander I. Vermont
Posted on: Fri, 03 Oct 2014 10:43:48 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015