Chocolate Milk
This is an essay Jake wrote in 2012 when applying to Wake Forest University. The essay is in response to their prompt, "Wake Forest School believes that the quality of an educational experience depends in part on the differences of backgrounds, experiences, and perspectives of the students who comprise each class. How will you contribute to the diversity at Wake Forest? "It is truly one of the favorite college essays I have ever read and it came from Jake's heart. He was accepted at Wake Forest, but chose instead to attend Georgia Tech!
Chocolate Milk
I’ve always asked myself why anyone would drink milk without putting chocolate in it. Have you had chocolate milk? It’s delicious, and it does everything that milk has ever done and more. So, it’s only fitting that my story starts with chocolate milk - or the spilling of my carton of chocolate milk, to be exact. The splatter wasn’t even big enough for me to care about, but the fourth grade lunch monitor cared. As punishment for my crime, she sentenced me to a hard thirty minutes in silent lunch with no chance for bail. While there, I seethed at the lunch monitor for the grossly unfair way in which she treated me. I certainly didn’t spill it on purpose. I was going to clean it up. Why punish me? This seemingly inconsequential thirty minutes of my life escalated into one of the more important revelations of my elementary school years. It was an event that shaped a belief I still carry with me today: that all people should be treated fairly and with respect.
Fast-forward a few years: I was in the glorious break from school that we all know as summer. But it wasn’t just any summer - my parents had deemed me mature enough to spend a week away from their guiding presence. I was attending Camp Cherokee, a Presbyterian summer camp where campers from all backgrounds enjoyed a week in the woods canoeing, crafting, playing various field games, and having an all-around great time.
Most kids relished their week in the woods, but I wasn't really having that good of a time. I was a nice enough sixth grader but I didn’t quite fit in. I attended St. Francis Catholic Church of Cartersville, and everyone else at the camp was a member of the Presbyterian Church across the way. I now realize that this isn’t really a big deal, but back then, our religious affiliations seemed to be a HUGE deal to the other kids. Although both are Christian faiths and both have more or less the same beliefs and values, the other campers seemed to judge me based on this minor difference. They did not include me in games of foursquare, they did not want to share a canoe with me, and did not allow me to sit at their table at lunchtime. Alas, I was forced to drink my chocolate milk alone.
But one of the staff members at the camp made that week bearable for me. Karl was the counselor in charge of my cabin during my time at Camp Cherokee, and when I felt lonely or left out, Karl came to my rescue - always making sure that the other kids involved me. To some, it may seem like a small, insignificant gesture that Karl made sure that the others included me in their activities, but to me, his kindness reinforced the chocolate milk lesson: that no matter what, everyone deserves to be treated fairly and with respect. And after pondering Karl's actions that week, I expanded the lesson to: everyone should be included and everyone should have a chance to participate.
Fast forward one more time to the summer of 2012. I am now a full time summer counselor at Camp Cherokee. Karl has moved on, and I now fill his shoes and work with the young campers to make them feel welcome and entertained.
I went into the summer with one conviction- one solitary goal. I would work tirelessly to make sure that no one at the summer camp was excluded or treated unfairly because they were different. The test of my resolve presented itself about halfway through the summer when Marc arrived at Camp Cherokee. Marc had come to enjoy a week of hiking, canoeing, archery and swimming just like all of the other eighty-five campers we hosted that week. Marc was different from the other campers however; Marc was noticeably autistic. He was cautious of unfamiliar things and socially awkward. The other campers did not treat Marc very well at first. They excluded him from games and teased him.
But I saw Marc's autism not as an obstacle, but as an opportunity for all of us to learn, and grow. I worked that entire week to make sure Marc’s experience was fun and fulfilling and others learned to tolerate, understand, and even embrace the differences between us all. At mealtimes, I made certain that Marc never sat alone. When the kids played kickball, I encouraged the team captains to pick him. And when the kids planned their end of the week skit, I made sure that Marc had a role in it. At the beginning of the week, the other kids did not always like that they had to include Marc, but there was no way I was going to stand by and let Marc be excluded and judged for his differences.
On Saturday as Marc was leaving with his parents, he ran up to me and said in the most innocent way possible, “Thanks for everything Jake!” Marc had no idea how hard I had worked to ensure that his week at camp was memorable and happy. All Marc knew was that he had a wonderful week at camp - and that he was part of a group.
Equally as important, the other children learned how to treat and embrace those who are different, and most of all, they learned that everyone has value in our society.
I know that I do not represent the textbook definition of “diversity" and my contribution to a diverse student body is not in my age, gender, race, religion, or socioeconomic position. My contribution is in my leadership - my willingness to step up and lead by championing diversity, demonstrating kindness, acceptance, and an earnest inclusion of all people. My duty is to observe it, participate, drink it in, think about it, learn, share, and pass the lessons of diversity on to others in my life. We're all in this together, and all of us - each and every one of us - deserve fairness and respect.