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The first day my dad picked me up from 4th grade, he arrived in my grandfather's (who was fatally ill at the time) impractically nice truck. My dad was driving so that my grandmother could have it out of her driveway and actually drive the car that she used. It had a really nice sound system, that was when my dad put on AEnema. I had heard Forty Six & 2 previously, but this was the first time my dad let me hear the whole album, and I have loved the genre as an expression of rage ever since.
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Not long after I moved to Arkadelphia, I joined the youth swim team at OBU. I had no right to be there, I could barely swim and I didn't like putting my head under the water. The coach essentially said that if I continued to be a liability, then I would have to be put in swim lessons, which I probably should have. This came as such an insult to my pride that I essentially just determined in my head that I wouldn't drown. This has become a major source of motivation in my life.
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I entered my first day of high school band in the middle of summer in ridiculous heat, pretty much totally unprepared. I had no real coordination, so I was missing steps and failing miserably to do anything properly. But my motivation has compelled me to stick with it for what has now been three years. The entire band was motivated by the promise of building something great. Many didn't believe in the future of that promise, but those of us who did continued to work to see that end goal.
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I entered my second season of robotics expecting to be more useful to the team than I was the year prior, where I did nothing, but that was not the case. I tried to have a hand in the design process and keep an organized schedule and be a respectable engineer, but the project was controlled by two people who were, although talented with tools, not great at management, teaching, or organization. I ended up having to design and fix things with the design myself, encouraging my independence.
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Over this past summer, I attended a music camp in a remote, internetless part of Maine. While I was there, I was forced into working pretty much nonstop from 6:15 to noon for a month. I had never put myself through so much work, but I enjoyed it, and I kept wanting to show up early for more. Through this camp, I learned to enjoy the company of my "brothers in arms" so to speak, as we learned to be really good friends through shared misery. It also encouraged my independence.