Outside the school, on the streets of sewage and garbage, lay a dead man. The man’s throat was slit, leaving an expression of desperation on his face. A sea of people parted, as I—a blue-eyed, blonde-haired, American teenager—approached the scene. For me, a dead body at my feet was cause for the world to stop. For the four-year-old girl, standing at the edge of the crowd, staring up at me, it was just a part of life. ...

Sculptor Jacques Lipchitz once said, "Cubism is like standing at a certain point on amountain and looking around. If you go higher, things will look different; if you go lower, again they will look different. It is a point of view." With this in mind, describe a moment when your perspective changed.

I am a runner. I was the fastest kid in my elementary school, girl or boy. As a third grader, I ran a six-minute mile. At six, I started running with my dad’s adult track team. It made me feel special. My dad used to brag about his star of a daughter. In seventh grade, I went to High School Track States in the 1500. That year I also placed fourth in the National Middle School Mile. The man giving...

African History and Language and Social issues in Africa: choose stuff...

inspired, interesting,...

Nothing, got me...

Moving to Nairobi...