This is an essay I wrote for a scholarship to Georgetown's PPI. What do you all think?
I'm sitting in the back passenger seat of an old, old car. President George W. Bush is driving. Behind him, next to me, sits President Clinton; in front of me is Mahatma Gandhi.
The president isn't doing such a good job driving. He keeps looking down at his feet, motioning with his hands, turning around to argue with President Clinton - who, for his part, incessantly shouts at Mr. Bush. It seems Mr. Clinton thinks he knows where we're going; his shouts appear to be directions, but they're more like a disjointed string of positions on why we were lost, wrong turns we had taken, and gas stations we had passed. At first, I'm filled with anger. But after a few minutes of the non-stop arguing, I become incredibly frustrated. I want to say something, tell these guys to stop fighting and get us back on track. But they're too busy calling one another names to listen.
Gandhi turns to me and says: "Be the change you want to see in the world."
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