My American Dream
As a young, sixteen year old girl the world is nothing but options for me. It is my playground, one might say. The American Dream has no real definition. It can only be defined as the one choice in a person's life that leads them to joy in their life. One choice. That's all it takes. My American Dream is not what most people would think when they see me or even when they think of a sixteen year girl. My American Dream is joining the army medical corps. To be more specific, to be an army medic. Most would probably laugh and tell me that a girl as small as myself shouldn't even think of the military. However, with a family history of nothing but military, it seems wrong to think of doing anything else. To sit and say I want to be anything other than a medic just feels awkward on my tongue. The feel of a red cross band around my arm, the dirt caking my cheeks and hair, and the warmth that runs through a medic when a woman thanks you for bringing her son or husband or brother home would make all the hardships of getting to that point absolutely worth it. That is my American Dream.