2009 Winners

Alexis Arnold
Third Place Winner, Scholarship Essay

What it means to ME to have my parent or guardian involved in securing our community.

Though the sun had recently set, the absence of light, or perhaps simply nerves, sent a shiver down his rigid spine. He crept toward the door, debating whether he should endure the trouble or return to a place of comfort. His decision, unfortunately, leaned toward the former. He begrudgingly took a step forward and made an effort to grasp the doorknob with his sweaty, shaking hand. With a slight twist and a push, the door opened. He walked down the corridor into a dimly lit room. Hi voice, though quiet and unsteady, managed to say, “Hello, sir, I’m here to pick up your daughter.”

My dad has worked in the police force even before I was born, and ever since I was in grade school, I was always proud to say that my dad had the coolest job in the world. However, this boasting soon came to an end because once I grew up and became immune to cooties, I realized that due to his profession, none of my guy friends ever wanted to meet my dad. For some reason, having a father who was an undercover narcotics detective was a bit intimidating. Nevertheless, it was not until I had reached this age that I fully understood the gravity that my dad’s line of work entailed by preserving the safety of his surroundings.

Even though I am the oldest of the children in my family, my dad still considers me as his “little girl.” That being said, he feels he must be incredibly overprotective (as with the scene aforementioned). More often than not, this sense of “duty” makes me feel smothered by this extension of fatherly love. However, I know that when I am fast asleep while feeling my dad’s presence in the house, I feel comfort and security that nothing and no one else could ever replace. In a way, he is my enhanced alarm system because if there were ever an incident with an intruder in our house, I know that without a doubt, he would sacrifice his own safety to ensure ours, and this is something I could not be more proud of.

Beyond the vicinity of our household, my dad helps protect his community from any danger as if it were his own family. Although he does not tell me all the gory details of his job, I know it is not something to be taken lightly. He is amidst shootings, drugs, and insanity nearly every day. This is something I would not have the courage to do, and because he is a police officer, I never have to. Without his extra effort of care and bravery, I would not be able to watch the nightly news without feeling too afraid to walk out my front door, and if officers from other towns are as dedicated to safety as he is, I feel I have the freedom to enjoy the city I live in without the eminence of fear encapsulating every foreign movement I sense.

My dad’s job is vital for the well being of our community. Despite the random changing of shifts, long overtime hours, and some family holidays missed, I know where my dad’s priorities stand – in providing a safe environment not only for his precinct, but also for his personal precinct, otherwise known as, home. And because of this balance my dad has been able to find, I am proud to see him wear that silver badge of outright courage.

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