Sample Profile Essay
Note to reader: This draft is re-printed here with the author's permission. These student drafts are provided for a couple of reasons: first, to give you a taste of the variety of topics and approaches students have taken, and second, to provide instructors with readings that might be used in class discussions and activities. These samples are not perfect and represent final grades from across the grade scale (A through F), so please be forgiving, understanding, and respectful if you find errors or problems.
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Professor Peterson
English 1010D
25 February 2016
Heart break, Wounds, and Memories.
Trying to sit here and picture my father as anyone but who he is today is quite challenging I’d say. How do I picture the quietest, calmest, most patient, wise, loving man in my life as someone who was once a walking, talking, ticking time bomb? Something about my father affects me in a way that nothing else has the power to. Maybe it’s the immense amount of love within me that I have for him, maybe It’s the fact that he's the most influential person to me, maybe It’s the slight knowledge I have about his past that fills my eyes with tears because I can’t imagine him having to endure all that he has. I know my father is strong, he has to be with all he's been through, but having to imagine my dad in the positions he was when he was my age literally hurts my heart. I love my dad so much, and so knowing all the struggles he faced, all the long, hungry, sleepless nights, all the 3 mile walks to and from school, the heartbreaks he dealt with from the loss of both his parents and his brother, hurts me.
My dad grew up in a small town in Bosnia where he spent his life until he was 28. The highest level of education he completed was high school, but the knowledge that man holds within him is beyond me. He met and fell in love with my mom and from there they begun to start our family. Soon after he was enrolled to fight in the war, where he not only witnessed some of the most horrid, tragic, and heartbreaking scenes, but where he also lost both of his parents and one of his brothers to Serbian soldiers, bombs, and gun shots. So after living through some of the toughest things, how is he so calm and patient, so warm hearted and strong? A questions I ask myself every day.
Up until just recently I found out my dad wasn’t always the man I now know him to be. After fighting in the war, he left with more than just wounds and a broken heart. He left carrying the heavy weight of PTSD. There’s one story my older sister told me about when he was younger, she had this stuffed bear that she took with her everywhere, she loved it, and for some reason that neither her or my mother could understand, my father hated the bear. He would get so annoyed and angry with her when he caught her playing with it, he would throw it across the room and yell at her, asking her how many times he needs to repeat himself before she understands. One day he had finally had enough of the bear. He was home alone while my mom and sister were out running errands I’d imagine, and when my mom and sister returned home, they found the bear, and all of its stuffing scattered across the living room floor along with the knife he used to tear it apart. My sister burst into tears and my mom went calling for my dad, to ask him what had happened. That day isn’t a day my sisters remembers, my mother told my sister the story and from there she shared the story with me as well. When I heard about the story I was at a loss of words, almost as much as I was at a loss of breath. I felt my whole soul plummet into my stomach. I’m sure there had to be multiple occurrences of things happening, he was suffering from PTSD, he was battling a war against himself in his dreams, in his reality, everywhere he went.
If it wasn’t for my mom sharing that story with my sister, and her sharing it with me, I wouldn’t know about the part of my dad that played such an important role in his life for so long. I understand why it wasn’t my dad who told us, he wouldn’t want for my sisters and I to see him as anything less than the strong, wise male figure we have in our lives. I realize that his past is a part of him that he doesn’t like to speak on, because speaking about it means reliving it, and to relive something like that isn’t anything I’d ever want for my father to have to relive continually. But our past is what has shaped each and every one of us today. If it weren't for the trials we endured, the harsh circumstances, the heart breaks, the tears shed, the nightmares we faced, none of us would be who we are now. My dad wouldn’t be the man my sisters and mom all look to for advice and guidance. Regardless if my sister had never shared that story with me, it wouldn’t alter the picture I have set in my head of my dad. If anything it would strength and add more meaning and love because I now understand a part of him that I never got to meet.
I’m sitting here writing this essay and I keep having flashbacks to when I was younger, and we would be at a family gathering and one way or another the topic of the war and his life growing up would be brought up, and I remember my dad sitting and speaking about the nightmare he lived and me rushing over to listen, because I was curious and interested about it. I remember him saying how some nights all they had for dinner was a piece of bread, and instead of him eating it, regardless of how bad his stomach was aching because it had been so long that he had been without food, he took it over to his father and gave it to him to eat. His dad was old and sick, and he felt his father needed it more than he did. Listening to him tell us that story I would relive the moments at home when we would be sitting at the dinner table, and for each meal we had bread, and I remember myself saying I didn’t want any bread one night and my dad getting upset with me and making me eat it anyway. It finally all made sense, everything was starting to make sense, and it was all coming together and adding up in my head. He was making sure my sisters and I weren’t hungry, making sure we were taken care of, and that we never had to walk around starving like he did when he was our age.
I remember not too long ago when my younger sister and I had gotten into an argument, and my dad sitting me down and talking to me. Of all the things he told me in that moment there’s one specific set of words that stick out in my head that I’ll always remember. He said, “You still have your sister, you still have someone to call and talk to whenever you'd like to. I don’t. I would kill to have that. I would kill to still have my brother here with me today, so I could speak to him, spend time with him, surround myself with his presence, but I don't have that, not anymore.” And in my head, and my heart I felt the part of me that was selfish. I was selfish for not being more grateful for having siblings, I was selfish for arguing with someone who looks up to me instead of bonding with her and teaching her life lessons. I was selfish for having something my father wishes he had, and not treating it and appreciating it in the correct ways. Since that day I haven’t argued with either of my sisters for that reason. My sisters and I are what my father wishes he still had, so to alter and destroy the relationship would be ungrateful and selfish, and that’s something I never plan on doing again.
The relationship I have with my father today is one of the most cherished relationships I have. I’m very close with both of my parents, but the relationship I have with my mother differs from the relationship I have with my father. Part of the reason I think I have such a strong relationship with my dad is because of how open and understanding he is with me. With him being as patient and calm as he is, I’m never too scared to approach him with any problems I may be having or when I’m seeking advice or someone to talk to, I know I can always count on him. He's very understanding, and I think that’s what makes it so easy for me to talk to him. It’s crazy to think about how I seek my dad when I’m in trouble, or when I’m in a place in my life where things just become too tough to handle and I need some of his words of strength to motivate me to keep pushing through whatever trials I may be facing, but when I think about him and who he had to speak to while he was enduring his down fall in his life I don't know if he had anyone. My dad is a very strong man, he doesn’t seek help or anyone to speak to because he copes with things on his own, but I wonder how much different he would be if he had that one person to speak to when he was seeking comfort.
Though my dad went through his fair share of hard trials, he found a way to overcome the heart breaks, the wounds, and the PTSD. Today, he's one of the happiest men I know. Though my friends become quite intimidated while around him, they soon come to realize that he means no harm towards anyone. I’ve heard many times from my friends that they’re scared of my dad because he always looks so angry, but in all truthfulness he isn’t angry at all. He has this look about him that could scare any person enough to never come back in the presence of him, it’s honestly just his face. It isn’t that he’s purposely trying to intimidate the others around him. Maybe that look came about because he got so used to having to uphold the war man he was, he couldn’t show any weakness, and so that’s what he used to show that nothing could phase him. But once you get a smile out of him, the whole room brightens up, because it isn’t what anyone is expecting, so when we all finally get it, it’s like a breakthrough. I’ll admit, I still have a tiny bit of fear when I have to go to my dad about things because even he intimidates me and I’m his own daughter, but I know my father means no harm towards me or anyone. My dad tells my sisters and me all the time that he would go to the end of the world to make sure my sisters and I are always taken care of. He’s told us that if it ever came down to it and we were ever in danger that he would do whatever he had to, to ensure our safety, even if it meant him sacrificing his life. But it’s also reciprocated. I would put my life on the line for any member of my family, regardless of the circumstance or situation. They’re my blood, they're my family, and nothing scares me more than losing them. So I understand the love from a father, the love from a parent, period.
My dad has not only taught my about himself, but he's also taught me about myself. He’s shaped the young woman I am today. He has inspired me in so many ways to be whatever it is I want to be, and he gives his full support, and I couldn’t ask for anything more. One day, I’ll make sure I possess the qualities he does. My father is my best friend, my role model, and my reason for wanting to become something greater than what’s expected of me.