Reflective Essay

My college career is a rather interesting one. Sure, maybe many say this,
and Im sure that due to the relativeness of this statement, each holds validity in its
own way; however, mine is a bit more uncommon than most. I came to the
University of Washington as my last academic choice due to financial reasons. Also,
it was the only college in state to offer a degree in aerospace engineering. I grew
up in a rather conservative setting; at least in the sense that my father and mother
reflected a vision of how families were stereotypically run in the past. Typical
Christian values, military background, and my mother eventually became a stay-athome wife when my father retired in 1998 after 22 years of service. However, he
became more and more distant after this time due to having to take work on the
road. By the time I was in high school, we saw him maybe a few weeks out of the
year, and it only became worse.
I am a rather talkative person, IF the topic strikes a chord of interest. I used
to be rather selfish, and blow-up peoples ears when speaking. For this reason
people used to deem me an extrovert at times, and I believed myself to be so after
living in a fraternity for four years. However, this is not the case. In reflection,
almost every time I was socializing at my fraternity, I had to escape to my room and
sit down for a bit and recharge. I wasnt aware of doing it at the time, it just came
naturally.
I process information internally primarily in the form of patterns and
analogies, and believe my memory to be one of my best features. I then work to try
to take the ideas that Ive pieced together and make something out of them. Im all

about trying to find an outlet for whats going on in my head to be applied to the
world. I believe Introversion isnt something about being shy or reserved, its how
one digests information. I tend to exist in my head mainly, seeing how I fit into the
equation around me, and not the opposite. Yes, this is slightly off topic, however, it
relates to how and why it was so hard to truly focus when the reality truly settled in
that Id be entering the real world after college. A nasty habit of mine is to ignore
my senses, as it is a function that I dont focus on within daily self.
I came to UW desiring to major in aerospace engineering because I wanted to
parallel my father, who I saw as a very successful individual, and my only outlet of
comparison, really. I was interested in many subjects, and feel I succeeded at them
in high school; however, there was always that emphasis on math because of him. I
hated it at first, but pulled through and began to value it due to the success of my
triumphs. However, it is not my natural inclination to conduct deductive logic for
the sake of it. I prefer applied logic, so when physics came around, I was ecstatic. I
wanted to major in astronomy, but the job market problemso I tried to blend my
interest in space with engineering, which I thought my father would value and be
proud of; ergo, aerospace engineering. However, when I entered college and saw
the prescribed schedule set for four years, reality truly hit me; deep down, I didnt
desire this path. Im good at lying to myself until the point of committing, I
suppose.
I trudged through my freshmen year, never really being on my own, except in
how my parents encouraged me to be independent and free spirited with my
imagination. This didnt really help when building a mind for the real world
though. I am an only child, and was given much; though, in the end I value nothing

material. Im content in a small room with bare essentials and my thoughts, to be

honest.
Anyways, I reached the end of the year; but a problem that had been growing
outside of my life focus was growing inside of me, literally. I had noticed my vision
gradually decreasing in my left eye from around March of 2007. I remember when I
first noticed it; I was reading Enders Game in my bedroom and closed the right eye,
and could only read certain letters with my left eye. I remembered what my
optometrist had told me, that I possibly had a slight astigmatism, in addition to the
vision getting farther from corrected 20/20 every time he saw me possibly due to
this, and brushed it off; I mentioned that Im terrible at being honest with my
senses, this is a prime example.
However, in June suddenly a slew of black floaters appeared in the eye, and I
realized that I couldnt read out of the central vision. It turned out that it was a
tumor growing in between the optic nerve and retina, and had grown so large,
leaked so much fluid, that it was elevating the retina and caused a macular hole.
This is not normal, of course, so I went to Madigan (the military hospital on Fort
Lewis) to see an ophthalmologist. His name was Dr. Thordsen, and wed soon get to
know each other very well. This may seem surprising, but many doctors are unable
to connect the dots in seemingly unrelated events. This may be an aspect of
humans in general, but he was able to connect the eye to a rare disease he read
about in medical school, and set me up for CT scans and MRIs immediately. From
this point on, Ive become accustomed to planning on my worst predictions coming
true, as the genetic disease, Von Hippel Lindau Syndrome, was engraved in my
DNA; causing my 23rd chromosome to be defunct in regards to producing a tumor
suppressor protein. So they grow all the time. After the MRI and CT scans came

back, I was found to have a tumor the size of a tennis ball in my left adrenal gland,
which had probably been growing since around the age of 15, spiking my blood
pressure; which explained the unexplained high BP. This countered the genius idea
that it was due to me running into the hospital so as to not be late.
The surgery on my abdomen occurred on September 4 th of 2007, and against
my knowledge prior to going into it, I came out with a much larger scar than
anticipated: twenty inches, as opposed to somewhere around eight, which I had
originally been informed. There was another tumor near my spine that was found,
and in order to be safe, they had to cut around my reproductive organs to remove it.
I was hospitalized for over a week in ICU with a temperature of 104 degrees
Fahrenheit. Later, nearly 7 inches of it would become infected, and it was required
to be cut open to the muscle, while awake, in order to drain and prevent death. The
wet to dry process of changing out bandages didnt work in terms of sealing the
wound, so I received a wound vacuum; which was essentially a sponge stuck in the
wound covered with superglue like clear adhesive. It was a wonderful feeling
having that pulled out weekly as the skin grew around it. Ive become accustomed
to realities that I dont necessarily want to deal with. Resiliency has a funny way of
building itself out of strife.
I walked like Quasimodo for around three months, unable to feel my
abdomen; a problem that persists until today. The nerves I was told would grow
back, and after around 2011 when the trials of dealing with this had subsided, I
began physical exercise again. However, due to not feeling half of my abs, and my
left eye not seeing out of its central vision, my spine and posture became contorted;
Im currently correcting this. I stand all day, wear minimalist shoes, sleep flat on my
back without a pillow, stretch in a pool an hour or so each day, in addition to other

things, but I think one gets the point. Deep physical problems take much time to
correct. Another feat of mine has been building an arch on my foot, which used to
look like a row boat paddle. That coupled with the spine situation was great. The
necessary, cognizant recognition of the problem every second is essential to
recondition and regrow.
Through these times I never gave up on school. Realistically, I should have
taken a year off; but, I didnt. Me and my senses, I guess. I began searching for
other majors, rather disheartened at life in general. I sort of settled on architecture,
as my father was doing construction management for a firm in Seattle, and I
thought it seemed interesting. It wasnt me though. Ill elaborate further.
I struggled with the idea of hedonism, and living for the moment, because I
didnt know when another problem would arise and possibly end me. I halfheartedly
pursued architecture for three years, but had to keep hardship withdrawing from the
quarter, and waiting another year to take the pre requisites. My grades in the
drawing classes were below mediocre. I was a 4.0 student for most of my life, but
after this disease I lost my drive internally and maybe went to class twice a week,
scraping by with a 2.7 average.
My drawings werent bad because of this, though; I was spending sometimes
15 hours straight drawing, as architecture required one to not use a ruler, and the
lines had to be perfect. However, me ignoring my senses, and going through
continuous laser procedures and surgeries on my left and right eyes, I was unable to
truly create a product of quality. My drawings had a interesting sketchy aspect
about them. I had to go over lines multiple times, cross my eyes, etc. all in order
to give the illusion of some sort of amplified depth perception that I had lost in my

binocular vision. My grades suffered, and little understanding as to why was given
my way. Its kind of hard to do straight lines when both eyes cannot focus together
to produce a sense of depth.
However, through this struggle and process, I found CEP. Bear with me, but
let me build this story up a bit, before I delve into my time with it. I had no idea
what urban planning was, but after going to Japan for the first time in 2009 , a
society that had fascinated me since a child, I became deeply interested in the
interworking of our built environment. Things like their transit system and cultural
philosophy on cooperation and the environment really grabbed hold of me. I had
always been interested in environmentalism sine the time of middle school when I
did a project creating a sustainable island as my eighth grade project. So many
interconnected variables I could work with; something that seemed to potentially
never become redundant. For this reason, in reflection, I would have loved to major
in astronomy and philosophy; another life, possibly, thatd be cool. Anyways, upon
my return from Japan, I took introduction to political theory, and became fascinated
with philosophy. I read Aristotle for the first time. His words resonated inside of me,
and began to give me hope. Virtue as a path to building ones potential. I realized
my way of thinking wasnt weird, and that I wasnt alone through reading these
thinkers. I became comfortable with my ideas and began to strive harder at my
goals.
Prior to this, my fraternity brothers, who I loved, had little understanding of
my situation and I never opened up to talk about it. They probably saw me as
unconfident, weak willed, out of shape, with a poor GPA; all these labels of
misunderstanding, something that I wasnt for most of my life, and I couldnt build
myself out of until around this time. Nearly two and a half years later.

Furthermore, I slowly pulled away from architecture; realizing it wasnt fit for
me, in terms of a career. Though, I needed a majorand it was too late to go back
and try astronomy or something in the natural world which had interested me. I
needed a specialist field, and something that was not valued like history, or sadly
philosophy; despite their immense value personally, I needed something that could
sell me for the goals I wish to accomplish in fixing societal problems. Luckily, I
found CEP through three friends who were in the program at the time.
I applied and was ecstatic when I had my interview scheduled. I remember
dressing up and jamming to Michael Jackson on the way to it; telling myself I can do
it, I will do it. The interview I think went well, as I got in. I was able to explain my
predicament well and describe my passion with the city and environment after
visiting Tokyo. Thankfully, through being admitted I found the resolve to build
myself once again.
I decided to double major in Japan Studies, and blend urban planning with the
background that my focus on Japan would give me. It was a semi open major, but
now I could choose it. I had accomplished my goal of getting into something with
an applied focus. The concept is universal too, so I could travel the world.
From that time my grades slowly began to turn around. I have maintained a
3.6 average, and turned slowly away from the plague that was pulling my mind
down. Once one does proper introspection on a situation, a second occasion should
not be able to get the better of them. My confidence had returned, and I had faith
in myself again.
It was a growing process, this optimism; it didnt happen right away. Joining
my class at opening house was liberating; I finally was surrounded by holistically

minded individuals like myself that I could relate to. And better yet, my first class
was political theory. Mark Purcell, who seems to have a similar way of thinking and
personality to myself, was our professor. The class, in addition to ethics, would be
two of the most valuable courses Id take here at the UW. I came out of the class
with a better understanding of myself and harnessed my focus further.
In the winter quarter of 2011, Professor Don Miller taught the Environmental
Response course. While not a terribly complex course, it did hold much value. More
importantly, I was able to set it up with Don to go to the Netherlands to study
planning in the fall of 2011; an experience existing as one of my most fond
memories.
While in the Netherlands I lived in an international house, Melkweg/Kraneweg
(Kraneweg 4) on a floor with four gentlemen from India, who would cook me curry
every night while being blitzed off my ass. They were amazing people, and I
maintain contact with my friend Raj today. The talks wed have walking around
parks in regards to philosophy, human nature, society, and the friendship I
developed with them, other housemates, and my classmates have endured till
today. More importantly, I had an amazing epiphany in my time there. I was
standing in the kitchen and it came to me: how I could go to Japan and what I
needed to do to succeed at doing so. Also, one of my settling goals manifested
itself. The desire to work for the city of Olympia and help revitalize the downtown.
Fortunately, a process already under way. I would love to build my house eventually
in the South Puget Sound, someday, if I raise a family.

With Japan, I built the requirements from professors I needed to know,

courses I needed to take, internships, etc. and would eventually achieve them;
however, not without first encountering a second wave of depressive setbacks.
Upon my return from the Netherlands, I was diagnosed with two brain tumors
in addition to my eye tumor (which had stabilized in the summer of 2009, prior to
going to Japan. I had an open surgery on the left eye, staring at the ground for eight
days in order for it to heal) reactivating. I realized that my endeavors would once
again be cut due to having to go to the hospital. Furthermore, my grandfather (my
fathers dad), suddenly became sick and fell into a coma before I had a chance to
call him back on my birthday. He died several days later.
I trudged through the academic year, but had to hardship withdrawal and
postpone CEP due to medical; it takes a lot to catch up, and I couldnt do it this
time. I came back in the summer of 2012 though, taking intensive first year
Japanese; a course that was four hours a day with an equal amount of homework to
follow it. I loved it, and pulled a 3.9 in the course. My mind was stimulated and in
the process. In addition, I TAd for an exchange program between Keio University
and the UW for three weeks. Id go to class from 8:30am-12:30pm, then go teach /
go on excursions for about five or six hours. My focus in the course was Land Use,
Transporation, and Air Quality; a perfect fit for my focus. I helped the students with
English, produced the research for them to learn, lectured, and gave them field
trips; one of which to my current internship as a transportation planner at Shoreline
City Hall (I was there from March of 2012-Sept of 2013). Overall, it solidified my
resolve further, and I made great friends.

I entered fall quarter of 2012 ready to give school my all again, with my eyes
set on grad school in Japan. My goal was to help revitalize the economy of Tohoku,
the area struck hardest by the tsunami/earthquake/nuclear fallout of March 2011. I
could go on about this endeavor of mine for several more pages, but Ill refrain; Im
still trying potentially. Anyways, I was in some intensive upper level Japan Studies
courses during this quarter, with two professors who would be essential when
learning about Japan and supporting me if I could prove myself.
However, mid-way through the quarter, October 28 th to be exact, I received a
call from my mother, who was having an argument with my father. My father had
just had brain surgery and was laid off several months prior, as he was found to
have the same disease as me. He waited years until getting laid off to deal with it,
and it had grown very large; causing him constant headaches and nausea. His only
liberation was to escape riding his Harley. The disease is genetic, as Ive
mentioned, and was given to him by his mother, who died of a brain tumor in the
early 1970s prior to VHLs identification. He was out of the hospital for about six
days, and was recovering fine, but him and my mother got into an argument.
Something I have seen many times, and always go the same way; this time was
different though.
My mother, who I love to death, is not the most logical person and is very
assumptive. How she remembers information and digests it largely has to do with
how words are conveyed to her and how she feels about that in her current state of
mind. She was insulting him, saying he was lazy or something along those lines
about his father, and ripped up his presidential ballot in the process when he
wouldnt give in to her jabs. This set him off, however, as he was taking it very
serious (we had a three hour drunk debate at Brouwers Caf about a month prior to

that) and the two got into a brief shoving match. She was rather pissed at him, and
in a fury of emotions called the police; which she admitted, she hesitated before
doing so, and it was to just teach him a lesson and to calm him down, not realizing
the consequence her actions would cause. She thought they would come talk.
Thats not the case, as this is not 1970s America. There is a mandatory one day jail
sentence for domestic violence calls.
The police showed up, and despite my father having a six inch gash in the
back of his head, held him back the back of his head after he tripped on the floor
letting them in, took him out in the rain with no shoes, and without collecting any of
his medication for his heart; he was on ten different types. My father was a very
proud individual, and an amazing person. I tried to model myself after him. He was
never abusive to either my mom or me my entire life. This event was humiliating to
his character and everything he stood for. The stress of being arrested is stressful
enough; but, after brain surgery with a weak heart? We can fight to hide it, he has
been through tough times like myself; but it gets to us.
He arrived at the ER of a local hospital in Lacey to have a doctor do a halfass
check on him in the hallway, concluding that he just didnt want to go to jail. My
father had one working ventricle in his heart, essentially; two were opened by stints,
and only at around 40% of their potential. He had a history of heart attacks and
none of this was considered. Furthermore, none of his medical records were looked
into.
He was then taken to a jail on an Indian Reserve due to Lace PD being ful. He
was jailed as the sole inmate and was on camera. Shortly after arriving, it was
noted that he was grabbing his chest, not a surprise due to the stress of the

situation, to which he brushed it off; something I would do. The guards stopped
watching him for an hour apparently, despite being on camera. During that time he
laid on his back and died of a heart attack. It was an hour afterwards before they
tried CPR on him. Two of his medications could have potentially saved his life; one
opening the arteries, the other thinning the blood to prevent the clot. My mother
had told the police that they needed to collect it prior to them departing, to which
they responded they would when they came back; neither of them did. By the time
she got to the jail to deliver them, he had already died; this was around 7:30pm.
This threw me off more than anything. There was no escape; there was no
settling back and assessing my emotions. I had to push through; I was the hope for
my mother and our future. She had not worked in nearly 13 years, and cannot
maintain the finances; my fathers death funds would run out.
I needed to go to Japan and figure out if I could achieve my potential there
prior to diving in financially for grad school and potentially screwing myself over.
Despite missing nearly two weeks of school, I caught up on the 1000 pages of
reading, my Japanese tests, and two 25 page research papers I had that quarter. I
finished with a 3.9 overall. I was exhausted and sick by the end of the quarter, but
made it through; wish I could say I felt the emotion of joy. I continued to receive
high GPAs in my Japanese and Japan studies courses through the year and
impressed my professors very much; however, I had to pull away from CEP once
again, as the senior project couldnt be thought of in my condition. My mind just
couldnt find something of value, or the time to do it with what I was dealing with.
In my efforts, though, I was able to receive the highest Japanese scholarship offered
by their government, called the Monbukagakusho. I was accepted to study at the
oldest college, and best language school in the country. I could live in Tokyo, on

stipend, with tuition and air fare covered for one year. It was the dream I strove for
since 2009.
While in Japan I found brief happiness. I taught the Keio program again prior
to departing in the summer of 2013. I was in charge of the green building aspect of
the course. In addition, I found a girl that I truly fell in love with. We spent a great
time together during my time in Japan, and I boosted my physique and studies
drastically there, as well. I truly grew up mentally and physically. In addition, all my
best friends currently reside there.
One of my closest friends, Jo, is very similar to me; probably the closest
personality out of any person Ive met. We are brothers via the fraternity. It was via
him that I was able to travel to Japan back in 2009, thus setting forth the idea of city
planning and japan into motion, my application to CEP, what I rambled for an hour
about during my interview, etc. Also, he knew my father well.
We were getting drinks at a Belgian bar in Shibuya one night and I told him
how the attorney he had introduced me to (who had did a lecture at the law school)
failed miserably after dragging me on passively for a year with my dads case. He
said hed take it. I can honestly say I trust no one more than him to do this; and it
was one of the deepest acts of friendship Ive experienced.
I left Japan desiring to go to law school myself at a top ten school, with
eventually a desire to write policy. Policy that is intelligent, not like the sort that put
my father into jail. To create justice for people like my father. To oust individuals
like the optometrist who failed to notice the tumor in my eye growing for several
years, and the doctor who dismissed my father to his death from their professions;
people more interested in other aspects than the people sitting in front of them. I

thought I was done with Japan possibly. But, needed to resort my feelings after
being away; I knew this upon my return.
Upon returning, I decided to fully integrate myself into CEP again; which I had
neglected due to my hardships since 2012. I was ecstatic to see how Seattle was
taking principles that I had learned about in the Netherlands and Japan about
walkability and bike friendliness. It changed so much in just one year. I thought I
wanted to work here doing this, but deeply missed Japan; and realized that the
bureaucracy is not something I want to be a part of in America. Furthermore, all of
my friends I thought I had here failed to welcome me home. Seattle became kind of
lonely. Its rather hard to build deep friendships when one has to bury themselves
mentally and physically in future progress.
When Winter came around, I took CEP 461, ethics, once again. This was the
most valuable experience Ive had within UW I think. I was able to break down the
ego that I had built after my fathers death, reassess it, and get off the path I was
on.
I used to be a very forgiving, understanding person. However, upon seeing
what can come when one is too forgiving of others actions, as was displayed during
the entire process of my fathers death, I stopped making excuses. However, I
didnt want negative thoughts to ruin me in that process, so I compartmentalized
my emotions during the process to protect my core; or I think my ego. I became too
caught up in it however due to the walls that were once my friends, and this
ultimately caused me to neglect not only my senses and dismiss small things in my
Japanese studies, but also how I logically convey and pursue information. I stopped
wanting to listen or try if I didnt get something right away. In taking ethics, it

helped me realize what I was doing wrong. This was highlighted especially while
reading Nietzsche, who has a very similar personality to me. I was turning into a
Plato or Kant, with my fanatical ethical ideals, and assuming that those systems
were right. I wasnt like this prior to my fathers death. I kept an open mind and
accepted that we just dont know.
So here I stand, (literally, as I cannot really sit for long periods of times in
order to adjust my spine) in my kitchen, where I essentially spend my days in
reflection and thought, typing this essay.
I have a lot I could continue to say: like why and how Im going back to Japan
in September, and about deep life conclusions Ive made in the process, the trials of
friendship, and the sort; but that would eat up literally another fifty pages or so and
Im not trying to agonize one further. Im actually proud of myself for writing out
this much about myself; I hate doing it. I dont like to write out things I inherently
know, like this essay, but it is valuable in some way. Nothing was really gained from
the process of doing this though, because I recite this in my mind and reflect and
relate to my experience daily. Though, maybe for a reader, one can understand a
little bit about my life and my way of thinking.
Society has constantly tried to get me to bend to a structure, but I somehow
always end up making that structure work better for me. I want to carve my own
path, and I will to do so; I dont want to live a structured life that is prescribed o me.
I want to make this world a better place than when I entered it; a place for people to
not be run by bad laws doing the thinking for them. I want to know I achieve this
before I die, which has never changed. It has always been my focus. I used to
dream about helping mankind as an adolescent in the form of space discovery, and

pushing our knowledge forward into the cosmos (Carl Sagan 2.0 here lol). While the
details have changed, my overall focus has not. I have struggled with my opinion
on society, but deep down, I want to reform something that I love; and I love people
deep down, despite being very disappointed sometimes, I cant give up.
Im going to go back to Japan and become more international, using all my
cards to my advantage. Where I end up, I do not know. Ideally, Id love to be in as
high of a position of power and agency to affect change; so whatever path leads me
to that, whether Its through diplomacy with Japan, politics, law, or something else, I
do not know. However, I must keep an open mind so as not to discourage discovery
within myself. The self requires constant tending to. If one wants to see all flowers
in the garden bloom and flourish, no one aspect should be neglected. Thank you for
reading.