I am applying for the Summer 2025 SHPEP and just wrote up my first personal essay draft. Feel free to give me any critique or advice, I'm really hoping to get into this program so be as ruthless as you can!
Essay:
Laying on my back with the hot Texas sun beaming down on my face, it suddenly occurred to me that I wasn’t going to be able to be a pilot anymore. I still feel the rough grit of the non-skid decking on the back of my head sometimes, and I still see the haunting image of bright red liquid spurting out of my hand as I fall backward onto the deck of the boat. That brief moment is something that I re-live almost every day, and I’m actually grateful for it.
Growing up, I didn’t go to the dentist for the first 10 years of my life. Some of the only memories I have of my mom are of her stuffing my SpongeBob toothbrush into my mouth and brushing until my gums were bleeding. The few times a month she would do that would qualify as the only dental care I would receive for the first half of my childhood. When I moved in with my dad, it would be different. I remember how embarrassed I was going to the dentist for the first time as a kid. My teeth were crooked and yellow, and even though the whole point of going there is for them to treat your oral health, to me it was a death sentence. Instead of getting the evil man in the giant white jacket who would point and laugh at my teeth that I had made up in my mind, my childhood dentist was actually the nicest man I had ever met. From that point on, I was excited to go to the dentist and get my semi-annual cleaning.
Unfortunately, my passion for dentistry would be overlooked by my lack of college funds, and instead of going to school like most people my age after high school, I decided to enlist into the United States Coast Guard and put a few miles on my soul while also getting my college paid for. I was always pressured into being a pilot; my dad was a pilot and wanted a son to follow in his footsteps. That dream would be crushed for both him and me only 4 short months after I graduated boot camp, at the ripe age of 18 years and 3 months.
We had been underway for almost a week at that point, and the constant cycle of standing watch, doing law enforcement boardings, eating, sleeping, and waking up for watch again was wearing on my body. The little 87-foot boat I was stationed on was short and tall, the perfect combination to make you feel every single wave that you came across. I was on watch and was told to catch the small boat that was coming back from a safety boarding, a task I had done dozens of times. This time should’ve been no different. Except for the small fact that my hand got stuck in the hydraulic winch and tore off two fingers from my right hand. Apparently, the first thing I said was “I’m not gonna fly.” I don’t remember that since I was in shock from losing two fingers.
I still vividly re-live that moment, but not with contempt, but with appreciation. I went on to be a flight mechanic on rescue helicopters, but instead of falling in love with the sky, I fell in love with helping people. I want to be that dentist who helps a 10-year-old boy not be scared of being judged, and I want to help treat people who might not have the money it costs at expensive private practices.
