Free Personal Statement by Jason Odell Williams
Authors: Jason Odell Williams
With a look of vague suspicion he steps back to the mic and says, “Yes—uh, in the last row… No, no, with the, uh—in the black. Yes, you, miss.”
I take a deep breath and hold it. Here we go…
“Thank you, Governor,” the girl says, exuding professionalism and intelligence. “Emily Kim, rising senior at Fairwich Academy and head blogger at Cons-ti-TEEN-tion-dot-com with a two-part question. I’m hearing a lot of talk stressing the severity of the storm and the need for residents to take the appropriate precautions and evacuate in an orderly manner. But what are the state’s plans for after the storm? In that vein, whatever task force you have advising you, I’d suggest it is severely lacking in one key demographic, one we all know can make or break an election—witness the past two national cycles. Of course I’m talking about the youth vote. So my second question to you is: are you doing anything to get the young people of Connecticut involved and connected to this relief effort?”
“Uhhh…”
Oh God, don’t blow it. She’s handing you the miracle on a silver platter!
“Might I suggest, Governor, to better keep up with our times—social media and all—that two high school students be appointed to your task force? They can more efficiently keep the public informed and safe via Facebook and Twitter. And, not to put down my peers, but we all know how apathetic and selfish today’s teenagers have become. I think our generation should be made more accountable for the problems facing us, facing the country, facing the world. And to help set an example, I think you, sir, should look to some highly qualified and motivated high school students to propose a solution to the flooding and devastation that may result from Hurricane Calliope.”
Boom. There it is.
I text in a flurry (typos and autocorrect be damned!) and hit send.
“Well, Miss… uh…”
“Kim. Emily Kim.”
“Well, Miss Kim—I think you make some… excellent points. And today’s youth should be more involved… in government and politics, especially at the, uh, the… local level. Because the children are the future. We’ve got to, uh… teach them well. And let them. You know. Lead the way. And, uh… Excuse me, one second.”
Mercifully, Teddy grabs the governor by the arm (before he quotes the entire Whitney Houston song) and shows him my text.
I re-read the sent text and wince at all the typos. “Caters” instead of “CT’ers,” “18 or yogurt” instead of “18 or younger,” “Fury place twine” instead of “first place team”? But I realize the gist of the message is clear when I notice a hint of a smile from the governor. The light back in his eyes, he grabs the microphone with a renewed sense of purpose.
“Miss Kim,” he begins, clearing his throat and with it, all traces of doubt, “I absolutely love your idea. I mean, look: I’m so fired up about it, I almost broke into song! ” The members of the press laugh, breaking the awkward tension, thank God. “But,” he continues, “I think we can take that idea a step further. Instead of just selecting someone, we’ll have a contest —for any resident of Connecticut eighteen years or younger. We want to hear— I want to hear—from today’s youth. I want your best ideas for how to deal with the aftereffects of this hurricane. So I’m proposing that each person, or team , present a demonstration of their relief effort plan at… 8 a.m. Saturday morning. Before the storm hits at noon. Candidates will come down here to my office. I’ll listen to all of the proposals. The winning idea will be implemented and the first-place team will receive a commendation from my office along with a $20,000 award toward college.”
The press applauds (is that even normal for one of these things?), and I glance at Teddy who nods appreciatively back at me. I turn back to the crowd of press and catch the eye of the young Asian girl who started it all. She looks less
I take a deep breath and hold it. Here we go…
“Thank you, Governor,” the girl says, exuding professionalism and intelligence. “Emily Kim, rising senior at Fairwich Academy and head blogger at Cons-ti-TEEN-tion-dot-com with a two-part question. I’m hearing a lot of talk stressing the severity of the storm and the need for residents to take the appropriate precautions and evacuate in an orderly manner. But what are the state’s plans for after the storm? In that vein, whatever task force you have advising you, I’d suggest it is severely lacking in one key demographic, one we all know can make or break an election—witness the past two national cycles. Of course I’m talking about the youth vote. So my second question to you is: are you doing anything to get the young people of Connecticut involved and connected to this relief effort?”
“Uhhh…”
Oh God, don’t blow it. She’s handing you the miracle on a silver platter!
“Might I suggest, Governor, to better keep up with our times—social media and all—that two high school students be appointed to your task force? They can more efficiently keep the public informed and safe via Facebook and Twitter. And, not to put down my peers, but we all know how apathetic and selfish today’s teenagers have become. I think our generation should be made more accountable for the problems facing us, facing the country, facing the world. And to help set an example, I think you, sir, should look to some highly qualified and motivated high school students to propose a solution to the flooding and devastation that may result from Hurricane Calliope.”
Boom. There it is.
I text in a flurry (typos and autocorrect be damned!) and hit send.
“Well, Miss… uh…”
“Kim. Emily Kim.”
“Well, Miss Kim—I think you make some… excellent points. And today’s youth should be more involved… in government and politics, especially at the, uh, the… local level. Because the children are the future. We’ve got to, uh… teach them well. And let them. You know. Lead the way. And, uh… Excuse me, one second.”
Mercifully, Teddy grabs the governor by the arm (before he quotes the entire Whitney Houston song) and shows him my text.
I re-read the sent text and wince at all the typos. “Caters” instead of “CT’ers,” “18 or yogurt” instead of “18 or younger,” “Fury place twine” instead of “first place team”? But I realize the gist of the message is clear when I notice a hint of a smile from the governor. The light back in his eyes, he grabs the microphone with a renewed sense of purpose.
“Miss Kim,” he begins, clearing his throat and with it, all traces of doubt, “I absolutely love your idea. I mean, look: I’m so fired up about it, I almost broke into song! ” The members of the press laugh, breaking the awkward tension, thank God. “But,” he continues, “I think we can take that idea a step further. Instead of just selecting someone, we’ll have a contest —for any resident of Connecticut eighteen years or younger. We want to hear— I want to hear—from today’s youth. I want your best ideas for how to deal with the aftereffects of this hurricane. So I’m proposing that each person, or team , present a demonstration of their relief effort plan at… 8 a.m. Saturday morning. Before the storm hits at noon. Candidates will come down here to my office. I’ll listen to all of the proposals. The winning idea will be implemented and the first-place team will receive a commendation from my office along with a $20,000 award toward college.”
The press applauds (is that even normal for one of these things?), and I glance at Teddy who nods appreciatively back at me. I turn back to the crowd of press and catch the eye of the young Asian girl who started it all. She looks less