Central Catholic High School
Senior? Yes
Elite top 100? Yes
Letters of recommendation: Letter of Recommendation 1, Letter of Recommendation 2
Picture yourself, it’s January 2010. What are you doing? Probably not thinking of the looming world atrocity that would take the media by a choke hold, right? Unbeknownst to us, millions of innocent individuals plea for help while enduring the unforgiving wrath of a 7.0 magnitude earthquake in Haiti. I’ll tell you what I’m doing: I’m sitting at my desk, diligently thumping my head with a pencil, attempting to master the art of multiplication. I hear an announcement on the intercom, informing us of a cataclysmic disaster on the island of Hispanola.
When I get home, I stumble into the door with my overweight backpack and trusty Nintendo DS in hand. Dreadful images of 300,000 dead Haitians occupy my TV. Fear fills my line of sight, agony swarms over me, I am in awe. “Take action,” my conscience tells me, but what can I do? Frantic brainstorming erupts on the spot, my psyche flowing like the Nile River, in a swarm of catastrophe. As an eight-year-old, I can’t do much. I need help. I need my classmates. With intense zeal, I express my idea for help to my school during the morning assembly, where I’m certain others will join me in my call for help. Within the coming weeks, my parents help me organize a school-wide collection of basic goods that are delivered to a local humanitarian aid organization intended for Haiti.
Now imagine: three bunk beds, a flickering candle, creeping darkness, four eager teenage boys, and a star quarterback who just came off of a state championship. It was group reflection night, the climax of our introspective school retreat, Kairos. After living with each other for a week, incessantly engaged in deep, meditative thought, we got to know the true essence of everyone’s lives. The experience enlightened me and bonded me to these classmates beyond anything I could have imagined. As the candle light radiated off of the quarterback’s face, he expressed his thoughts about me. I went numb. Every nerve somehow shifted directly towards my heart, creating an overwhelming sensation I may never feel again. “Marcus, you’re meant to be an instrument for good, never forget that.” The words he uttered will always stay with me, remind me, motivate me. From that instance in time, I knew that the entirety of my life could be encompassed with his one, distinct message of inspiration.
Learning this benevolence, beginning back as a self-appointed eight-year-old humanitarian, step by step, has allowed me to grow and realize life’s love through service. So the question isn’t “will I be a man for others?” Rather, it’s “will I go beyond what I’ve done, and help my peers understand that love can be found through goodwill?”