Can someone proof read my essay? 2 1/2 pages long (not doubled space)?
Thanks in advance!
On the morning of Monday, April 16th, 2007, roughly two hundred rounds of
ammunition are shot on the campus of Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University in Blacksburg, Virginia. In the span of two hours, the shooting would leave thirty-three dead, including the perpetrator, and twenty-five wounded. The Virginia Tech Massacre would go on to being known as one of the deadliest shooting incidents by a single gunman in the United States history, sparking both criticism and controversy around the globe.
2,400 miles away in the city of Fullerton, California, is a school called Sunny Hills High School. Currently ranking at number thirty-eight in the state of California, it has been awarded the California Distinguished School three times and is recognized as one of the top one percent of public high schools in the country. It holds a student body population of approximately 3,000 students, sixty percent of whom are Korean. The school itself however; does not only serve as an educational purpose. To most of their students, it acts as a second home. It is a place where talents are discovered, memories are made, and friendships are created. It is a place that provides a sense of security and stability. Of course this only applies when you are the hunter, and not the hunted.
It’s my sophomore year at Sunny Hills. Advanced Placement examinations would start in a few days and like hundreds of other students, I am walking down the hallways holding a study guide book for my AP World history class. It would be my first time taking the AP test.
As the school day progresses, students learn from their teachers or classmates that a shooting on a university campus in the East Coast has occurred. By lunch time, the school is literally buzzing about the news. Later, information regarding the shooter is released. The perpetrator has been identified as Seung-Hui Cho, a senior-level undergraduate student at Virginia Tech who moved to the United States from South Korea at the age of eight with his family. In 2005, a Virginia special justice had declared Cho mentally ill, seeing through that he should seek treatment.
School the following day is eerily quiet. As I enter my first period class, I notice that half of my classmates are missing. “Maybe there’s some kind of flu epidemic going around school,” I think to myself. After class ends, I walk into my second period and sit down. The bell rings. Again, only about half the class is present. A girl sitting next to me proceeds to ask Mrs. Sparks, our English teacher, if she may be excused to go to the office. When our teacher asks her why, she states that she’s scared. Mrs. Sparks dismisses her and we have a class discussion about the shooting. A boy across the room asks our teacher what she would do if shooter came into our classroom. She tells us that she would use herself as a human shield, basically using anything in her willpower, to give us a few more seconds so we could duck and cover for safety. A few students around the class nod reassuringly. At the time the question was asked, Mrs. Sparks was twenty-eight weeks pregnant, with a three year old son at home and her husband.
After school, I am picked up by my mother. “Did you hear? The shooter is Korean. How embarrassing,” she says. “Someone told me at school already. Why is it embarrassing?” I ask. “Because he’s Korean. We’re Korean.” I shake my head, not seeing the correlation. Born and raised in California, I’m as white-washed as they get. I don’t like kimchi. I enjoy eating carbs. I don’t listen to Korean music and watch Korean soap operas. Instead, I jam to Top 40 and watch MTV. When it’s the Olympics, I root for America while my parents root for South Korea. I identify myself as an American more so than a Korean. So when my mother tells me it’s embarrassing, I don’t share the same ideal as her. I don’t see the shooter as the psychopathic Korean. I just see him the psychopath.
It is three days after the Virginia Tech shooting. I’m in my fourth period class which is Algebra 2. My teacher, Ms. Yen takes roll. She’s Taiwanese and has earned herself the title, “Hottest Teacher on Campus,” amongst the students. After she’s done taking role, she closes the door to the classroom and locks it, something she’s never done before. “Ms. Yen, why are you locking the door?” a student shouts out. Behind me, I hear another student whisper, “Probably because she looks Korean.” “Asians don’t all look alike,” I retort. “Administration told the teachers earlier to lock their doors as a safety precaution,” she replies. “Are you scared?” I ask half-jokingly as she passes by me to begin the lesson. She pauses for a moment. “Anything is possible.” It is not until after class ends, that I realize she never truly answered my question.
The lunch bell rings and fourth period ends. Ms. Yen unlocks the door and lets us out. I meet up with a couple of friends and we walk around the school campus, food in hand. We notice officers that are from the Fullerton Police Department and their K-9 Unit walking around. My friend asks a passing student what is going on. “Someone wrote on the bathroom walls that they’re going to kill all the Koreans in this school.” My breathe stops short upon hearing that sentence. Never did it cross my mind that just because the shooter was Korean, it would stir racial prejudice or confrontation at our school.
I wake up the next morning with a sick feeling in my stomach. I don’t want to go to
school because I will be judged based on the color of my skin and facial features. I realize that to others, I am not an American. I am Korean. I tell my mother all of this, but she tells me that nothing will happen, that I should still go to school.
Yet, the situation at school seems to get worse. More taunts singling out Koreans are
written across the campus. Students walk around in groups in fear of being attacked. Racial fights break out. Three of my friends, who are part of a gang called “KBZ,” also known as the Korean Brotherz, are expelled from school for being caught with knives on campus. The news that they were carrying knives doesn’t help with the tension growing at school. People start to
joke that they were about to commit a Virginia Tech Part 2. I say that it was for self-protection.
Our principal calls for a school assembly, gathering us to tell us our recent actions have disgusted him and the rest of the faculty and has tarnished the school’s reputation. He gives us students an ultimatum: to behave properly or prom will be cancelled. “Cancellation of prom,” seems to be the magic words because the school begins to quiet down. Slowly but surely, things return back to normal.
Weeks pass with no major disruptions in school. The school year is coming to an end and
our principal promises us a prom. I have just finished taking my first AP test and walk back to
my locker with a couple of classmates discussing the exam. It seems as if everything that’s been
taking place the past few weeks didn’t even happen. That’s when we hear a loud “BANG!”
Students start to scream. Some drop to the floor. But it’s just a girl’s birthday balloon that has
popped. Yet as I look around, I can see the fear etched onto people’s faces. And as I walk down
the hallway back to my classroom, I am able to feel the burning looks of others. After all, nothing is ever truly forgotten.
- 10 years agoFavorite Answer
I'm on it. :) I'll repost when I'm done.
Kay. Sorry, I got interrupted. Can you please give me an email address so I can send it as an attachment?
Nevermind. Go to gmail.com, and log in as "createdthisforproofreading". Password is "viennawaitsforyou". (It's my favorite song. :D)
It's in the inbox. Sorry for the hassle, I did all the edits in red, and they weren't coming up.