Uncommon app essays: Gabby Richardson
Two hundred sixty one days ago…
…And from the blue corner. Weighing 150 pounds. She hails from the wealthy streets of Lower Merion. She has been fighting since birth, born two and a half months early. Conceived by a high school diploma and college education, Gabrielle is the product of a dysfunctional village. She is rated by many as a bright, effervescent star…
FIGHT!
My opponent came at me, and I two stepped to the right, once to the back and dodged the first punch. A little cocky and arrogant, I began to smirk, but before I finished –crunch- life’s right hook caught my chin. The news of my aunt’s uterine cancer stung my cheek. Within four weeks she was gone.
Sore, I put my arms back up, fists tight prepared to defend myself. Life came at me once again. My parent’s custody battle hit me with a three-jab combo. I crouched for relief, but it was too late, my mom had no job, my step- dad was fired from his, and suddenly the weight of the world was placed on my shoulders. I screamed, hoping to get a moment of relief, but life came back. It threw a bolo punch. My grandfather, was in the hospital. His heart was failing. Trying to claw my way out of the ring, I heard life laugh behind me followed by a tap on my shoulder. I turned, and then came the knockout. A text from my father that read, “ I am removing myself from your life. We have nothing left to offer each other anymore. [...] I have wasted 17 ½ years with my child.[...] Congratulations!” For the first time, I was alone, drowning in pity, my strength, gone.
In my darkness, I was taken back to kindergarten. The only black child at an all white Catholic school, pre-K through 8th, it was my week to be shining star, meaning I was line leader, and in charge of snack for the class. My mother, too preoccupied with her own success, forgot to buy snack and I went to school empty handed. That night, I cried in the arms of my aunt, and she said, “You are a falling star today.”
Over the course of the past 261 days, I have once again felt like a falling star. I had worked so hard to always shine, I had forgotten the importance of occasionally dimming. In becoming a figure of academic strength and leadership, I had become weak. I lost the fight that had gotten me so far. Instead of attacking life, I was on the defense, allowing my heart to chill and tear ducts to dry up.
But no more, I am getting back in the ring. While I never responded to my father, I have a response now…
“Congratulations Dad! You have a wonderful daughter, filled with resilience, strength and power. A daughter who is pure, and focused on landing among the stars and not in a bed of sins and distractions. Because of you, my future is bright. Because of you, no one will ever make me feel less than my worth as you so easily did. Because of you, I have once again found my strength to fight.
I choose to fight for my sisters who deserve the world. I choose to fight for my father, because while misery loves company, happiness loves it more. I choose to fight for those who are afraid to fight themselves. And lastly, I choose to fight for myself: my wins and my defeats, my pain and my happiness, and a life full of experiences, spontaneity, exploration and most importantly, love
The bell rings once… The bell rings twice…. And right before the third ring, my hand twitches, my head shakes and I bring myself back to my feet. The fight is long from over.