Autobiography

By James Vincent

Where does one begin when talking about their life?  I imagine you would want me to start at the beginning.  Unfortunately, I cannot start at the beginning; for I am unfamiliar with how it began.  The first image I have of my life is of me standing in middle of a field.  I calmly stand there, as if waiting for the very essence of life to begin.  Then all at once, the image begins to swirl.  Colors mix together.  Visions of faces are sketched into my mind while voices fill my ears.  The images begin to swirl faster and faster, increasing their speed almost simultaneously.  Then suddenly, everything stops.  Light begins to fade; memories are lost in shadow.  Darkness takes over.

            My earliest memory is of myself lying on the ground in my bedroom, waiting for my brother and sisters to come home from a place I would soon experience myself.  This place was called school.  I would lay for hours on end, finding little comfort in knowing my siblings were enjoying their day while I sit at home, not able to experience such grand adventures like recess or snack time or homework.

            Life in my family has always been competitive.  My mother gave birth to nine children.  My sister Christine was born in Burbank, California; Jennifer was born in Lake Wales, Florida; and my brother Delbert, sisters Sarah and Teresa, and myself were born in Dallas, Texas.  As you can see, my family liked to travel.  We moved to North Vernon, Indiana when I was four years old.  We settled down in a small suburb of North Vernon called Hayden.  When I was six years old, I began Kindergarten at Hayden Elementary.  I spent all seven of my elementary school career at Hayden, which I find was a good thing.  Unlike my brother and sisters, I only knew one school and one group of peers.  Christine hit hardest when we left Texas.  She was the only sibling of nine who had to make new friends three times over.

            School was always a struggle for me.  I soon realized the effort I would have to apply and the responsibilities I would be expected to uphold.  Kindergarten and first grade were my best years.  I excelled in all subjects.  Math and spelling were my strong points.  I then hit rough waters in second grade and third grade.  Math no longer was my strong subject.  Reading and Social Studies also became my weak subjects.  I never really like Social Studies when I was in elementary.  I believe the attitude of the teacher made a significant effect.  My school had one Social Studies teacher.  He would teach all grades.  His attitude toward the subject was negative.  He would constantly make remarks of how he never liked the subject when he was in school.  This made me wonder whether I would like the subject.  As the years progressed, I would fluctuate in scores from subject to subject.

One area in which I always excelled in was art.  I absolutely loved art, and still do.  I find art both relaxing and liberating.  When I draw or paint, I am able to create not only a picture, but a window into my life.  I am able to express my true emotions and desires.  I am able to share my story of life with others, in hope they too will share their story with me.

Junior High and High school became instinctive.  I found going to school routine.  You get up, go to school, come home, do your chores, do your homework, and go to bed.  Then the cycle repeats itself each day until the weekend.  Math and science were my main struggles in high school, especially chemistry.  Although I never made anything under a B+ (with the exception of geometry my freshman year), I constantly had to work hard to maintain my steady grades.  I was unable to get a job.  I was busy doing homework and participating in Swing Choir, community theatre, and high school musicals.  Work was not an option for me.

My sister, Jennifer Vincent, went to school at Manchester.  Although many people suspect I came here because of her, the truth is quite the opposite.  I knew I wanted to go to a school called Manchester College since I was in the sixth grade.  I really wanted to attend West Manchester College in England.  Honestly, I just liked the name.  So I promised myself that if I could not afford to go to West Manchester, then I would attend one with a similar name.  I found myself coming to Manchester College in North Manchester, Indiana ever since my sophomore year of high school, when I found such a place.

My time at Manchester has been very rewarding.  I was accepted into the community after only a few days.  I feel as though I have been able to grow here.  I have been able to take part in many activities here at Manchester.  I am currently the Helman Hall Representative for the Residence Hall Association.  I hold a position in the Manchester Student Government Association for the A Cappella Choir.  I am a member of the Helman Hall Council.  I am an active participant in the Student Education Association.  I have taken part in many student activities such as the One Acts, DEAD AIR Mystery Dinner Theatre, Little Siblings Weekend, and Camp Mack Day.  I also volunteer my time as Student Representative on the Value in the Arts Committee, which is in charge of setting up convocational speakers to present at the Manchester College.

I am looking forward to the rest of my college career here at Manchester College.  I look forward to learning new ideas, challenging previous ideas, and adapting to an environment I can one day call home.  Manchester has a lot to offer.  I just hope I will be able to share what I learn with my future students, coworkers, and family.  I would like to end with poem written by Robert Frost entitled “The Road Not Taken”.

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.”

One day I hope to look back at my time here at Manchester and realize that my life would not be the same if I hadn’t taken the road I did.

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