In high school, I almost killed someone. I was waiting outside for my class to start when I decided to casually kick a big rock. The rock went flying over the edge of a wall and came within inches of hitting a girl in the face. I took a deep breath and could barely speak—I was so shocked that I had come so close to hurting another person. To this day, I am incredibly thankful that the rock didn’t hit the girl, and I never stop wondering what would have happened had something terrible come out of me kicking the rock.
It took almost killing someone to realize that my actions could have a very negative impact on other people’s lives. Ever since the rock incident, I am a much more cautious person. I used to be a crazy driver; now I drive like a grandma. I used to speak my mind without censoring myself; now I think before I speak and make sure that I’m not able to say something that could hurt someone. I used to be interested in history and learning about the past; now I am a Sociology major and am passionate about learning about inequalities that exist today. I used to avoid getting involved in activities because I didn’t want the time commitments; now I write for a progressive newsmagazine, work as a Resident Assistant in the dorms, lead international Habitat For Humanity trips, and participate in student government. I used to make decisions based on what was most convenient for me; now I am willing to put my time and energy into helping other people.
Don’t get me wrong—I don’t just sit in my room every day and avoid any possible risks. My close call with the rock didn’t make me afraid of living my life. Rather, it made me realize the satisfaction of living a life based not on my own personal comfort but on doing things for other people and making life a little brighter for the people around me.
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