One late night, during our vacation in Chicago, my family and I nervously walked towards the AirBnB we rented. Loud sounds usually come with metropolitan areas, but I thought I could hear someone’s cry for help through the noise. Suddenly, two people from my right came racing down the sidewalk and knocked me over. I didn’t get a long look at them, but I could tell they were two large men, the type that would watch Empire. I assumed they were racing to complete errands because one of them was carrying bleach and another was carrying rope. As I lay on the floor, I looked around to see if anyone was nearby. Before I passed out I saw an injured man walking away from me and I thought to myself: Wait, was that Donald Glover? Waking up in the emergency room was a new experience. Apparently I had suffered a concussion and my dad had to bring me here. I freaked out when I realized I lost consciousness, but I found solace in the fact that I had people to care for me. I looked up to the medical workers who treated me, so the following year, I began volunteering at my local VA Hospital. My first day at the hospital was rough. I was messing up so often that I was hindering the progress of the people I was working with. I tried not to attract attention because I was embarrassed at how bad I was working. But when I met Mr.Arthur, I felt better because he consoled me. I told him, “Sorry, Mr.Arthur. I’m a little disorganized because I forgot to take my medication.” He laughed as if I was joking about the medication and said, “Please call me Dr. Dumas.” I may have crossed the line, when I responded, “Okay, buddy.” as I walked away. The next day, when he called me into his office, I thought I was in trouble for calling him “buddy”. Instead he gave me an opportunity to draw for his upcoming medical textbook. I looked forward to working on some art. I felt relief when finishing my homework because my mind was finally able to think about something other than school-work. I walked over to my art room after leaving my bosonic string theory room. While volunteering at the V.A., I received the special task of procuring some art to be in a medical textbook. With pencils drawn, I concentrated on adding the highlights and the shadows. Little by little, an abstract shape started to resemble the leg of a human male. 2 days later I was informed that we were supposed to be drawing scientific diagrams of the leg and that my drawing was neither scientific nor a diagram. The shadows I added covered a lot of the necessary detail. The choice to express this piece in a dark mood backfired on me. But, I won’t give up easily. Because of the instructions I was given, I had to work through the restriction on artistic expression.

I learned alot.