Cameron French is a 6’5” senior at South Salem High School. He plans to attend Swarthmore College in Pennsylvania, which is about 20 miles from Philadelphia, to become a professor, neuroscientist or environmental scientist. Cameron is ranked 1st in his class of 414 and also participates in school and community activities. He volunteers at Liberty House, a nonprofit responding to child abuse and neglect; he is in the Darfur Relief Club, plays varsity soccer and is the co-founder of the Empowerment Club, a micro-lending club financing third world entrepreneurs. The scholarship committee enjoyed Cameron’s essay. He did an excellent job using his grandfather’s impact on his life to represent the essay theme “What Tall Means to Me”.
Cameron's Essay: Rising Beyond the Expectations
My grandfather lived on the far side of the country, too far for a weekend visit or even a determined summer road trip. The times when I got to see him were few and far in between, meaning that a few, powerful memories were all I had to know him by. Every time I think about him, I recall the story he told me about his ambition to become a pilot. An accomplished, intelligent, and reliable candidate during the waning years of World War II, it would seem that there would be little to stop him. An unexpected obstacle materialized, however: he was too tall to be an air force pilot, the top of his head rising narrowly above the official “safe” height for the plane cockpit. As all good stories end, he eventually achieved his dream, slouching surreptitiously during the medical exam, counteracting the culpable few inches.
The endearing image of my ever-regal grandfather slouching down (for I still have difficulty envisioning him to have ever been anything other than the venerable man I knew) to hoodwink authority is part of the reason I like this story so much. However, I also value this story for the association it allows between my grandfather and me. When people (unimaginatively) ask why I am so tall, I recall this element of commonality that I share with most of my relatives on both sides of the family, regardless of how far away they live.
My height has afforded me unique individuality and an unexpected freedom. This freedom is ostensibly at odds with the spotlight that being tall seems to attract. People tend to remember me better than the average person they walk by, if for nothing else than because I am tall. It is hard to blend into the mass of other students at the back of class if I have neglected my homework, and one of the most frequent refrains I hear is, “Soccer! Why don’t you play basketball?”
Yet, I find that these expectations that accompany my height to be liberating. I take pride in the fact that I play soccer precisely because it is unexpected, that I do it because I want to, not because anyone foisted it upon me. Beyond well-rehearsed benefits of being tall (e.g. reaching the pack of gum on top of the refrigerator without blindly sending the whole basket crashing down), I have learned that people’s expectations don’t need to be limiting. I can be who I am and enjoy the surprise that is registered when my height leads someone to think I can or should be someone else.
Though I will always associate my grandfather with his stature, I love him not because of who his height made him, but who he chose to be. He incorporated his height into who he was, defying expectations, too-tall to for a cockpit or not.