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I have never half-liked anything; everything I do, I do with amazing passion and vigor that leaves me breathless at times. In an attempt to better connect myself with my heritage, I began to take Indian cultural dance lessons. I did not anticipate that this would become the most important activity in my life, but surprisingly it came to mean so much more than a once-a-week workout. I love to dance.

When I found out my school presents an annual cultural show, I naturally wanted to be a part of the show. This was the opportunity for me to choreograph my own dance for the first time. During try-outs, my best friend and I performed what we believed to be a great routine. However, to my dissatisfaction, my group was not picked. I felt deeply hurt. I was not ready to accept my failure, and I continued to believe the judges were mistaken. I have always been praised for my dancing; I did not know how to accept criticism. When my disappointment finally subsided, I felt an even stronger urge to be successful the next year.

During the year leading up to the next try-out date, I worked tirelessly on my routine and realized that I needed to be a part of a group better suited to perform. This meant not being able to dance with my best friend. Try-outs were nerve-racking, but when my team earned praise from the judges, I felt positive that this time I would be successful. Unfortunately, we did not make it on stage...again. I was not nearly as upset this time, and I took my failure with grace.

As the next year approached, I vowed that things would be different. I was more experienced and knowledgeable about what makes a dance successful on stage. By reflecting upon every critique I had received about my dances, and coupling that with my determination, I finally earned the privilege of performing in my school's cultural program.

Finally I saw that the past three years of my hard work had not been vain. This achievement...