One can be a true hero, but one needs to find the hero within oneself first. I have met amazing people throughout my life, made fantastic friends, and met extraordinary teachers who taught me very much. I have learned from them, and that has built up my character. I know heroes are all around me—people like my friends, teachers, firefighters, lifeguards, and the most important ones, my parents. They’ve worked hard to raise my brother, sister, and me. They have placed a roof over our heads, put food on the table, and provided everything we needed. I know how hard they struggle when their alarm goes off at two or four in the morning. I know how tough and tiring it is at work, and I see their agony every day in their sad expressions. I try my best to help them but can’t do much. The only thing I can give to my true heroes is appreciation. I believe heroes like them are always there, even where one least expects them to be.

It all began back in middle school in the sixth grade, when I was involved with the wrong people. That was my call to adventure. I guess I didn’t have friends before, and I began hanging around with people who were bad influences, convincing me to ditch classes and causing my grades to go down. I had no idea why I was doing those things at the time, but I know why now. It was fear, fear of being alone and having no friends to talk to or laugh with. I hated being lonely at school. The only place I wanted to be alone was my home. It was a safe place where I could be myself. At school, I was someone different. I was more of a maid: I followed orders to satisfy my so-called friends, except I wasn’t doing the right thing. Yet I did it all just to have someone to talk to: to have “friends.” Luckily, being a maid did not last long after my parents discovered my report cards and received phone calls from school about the days I missed classes. I can still picture my mother’s face, furious as she looked at me, and my father lowering his head with disappointment. My mother has a very bad temper, so she refused to deal with me. She asked my father to talk to me instead. My father also has a bad temper, but he is able to control it. As my father spoke to me, I began to realize my mistakes. I was surprised I wasn’t spanked. He said there was no need to hit me to make me understand. He knew I realized my mistakes. He had, and still has, faith in me; both my parents do. I was their only hope. I didn’t want to end up like my older brother or sister, who both ended up on the wrong road. They believed I could be better. They knew I didn’t belong with that crowd because that wasn’t the way they raised me. I started to look toward my future and dreamed about going to college.

Ever since that moment, I’ve changed. You could say my days weren’t as gloomy, and the sun shined on me. It wasn’t too late to make changes because it was only the first semester of sixth grade. But I knew I had lots of work to do. In the long run, I brought my grades up from F’s to C’s, and then to B’s and A’s. I impressed myself with the things I did to achieve my goal. Even one of my sixth-grade teachers, whom I later had for eighth grade, was amazed by the phenomenal work I did during those last two years of middle school. My parents were astonished, but they weren’t the only ones who were surprised: my brother and sister were, too. Somehow it embarrassed them that their baby sister was accomplishing what they failed to achieve. That is what my mother wanted me to do, to demonstrate that if I could do it, so could they. In that instant they learned a lesson. I told them it wasn’t too late for them either, but they had to want to accomplish their goals. I reached my ultimate boon just by realizing and accepting my mistakes. I became more self-aware. I was finally beginning to be myself. I remained a little fearful, but I was coming out of my cocoon little by little.

High school was the best. It has been a home for me, especially in Humanitas. I was ignorant before, but I have become conscious, mature, and confident. I am wiser, yet I still have lots to learn. I make mistakes all the time, and I hate them because sometimes I end up hurting people. Deep within my heart I don’t mean to hurt anyone, but I still fail to forgive myself for mistakes I commit. I have to remind myself that not everyone is perfect and that no one wants to make blunders. One has to first admit the mistake, then learn from it. Every journey I take, I learn something new, and it prepares me for the real world. Now I can say I am out of my cocoon and have turned into a butterfly.

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