Son of York

"Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by this son of York,"
(Richard III)



As the solid foundations that I have relied on throughout my life begin to crumble beneath my feet, I have been looking towards a source of salvation. Unfortunately, looking backwards only shows how a mess was made and not how to clean it up, so I have had to look forward. With college on the horizon, my future is entirely in my hands. In the winter of my discontent, I must be the son of York - for only in my success can I ensure I do not fail, and unlike Allen Hawley, I will do so not by cheating, or stealing, but through my own determination and hard work.

Just as Hamlet goes through his own existential crisis of purpose and identity, answering prompts and choosing majors leads the two sides of myself to battle over my identity. Scientist or writer? Numbers or letters? However, I will not let this conflict, this hesitation, be my downfall. Either path I choose, I will not let any opportunity slip through my fingers like sunlight, for it has been a cold and dreary winter and summer is only seven months away.