One anecdote that comes to mind as I think about the history of my education is when I was in elementary school and I accidentally cut myself. I remember coming home from school and playing with my childhood friend. We lived in an apartment building that had a backyard and we would play there. He was holding a pocket knife along with a chopstick, and began carving the chopstick. He asked me if I would like to try and I agreed to try it because I never really used a knife before. I held the pocket knife in my left hand because I’m a lefty and I held the chopstick in my right hand. I started to carve the chopstick with the pocket knife quickly and suddenly started bleeding but I didn’t feel anything. My friend screamed “YOUR BLEEDING”. It scared me because I shouldn’t have been playing with a knife in the first place and I knew I would be in trouble . I ran inside with blood gushing out of my right hand and leaking all over the floor my mom screamed “WHAT HAPPENED” and she looked so nervous since blood was all over the place. I told her what happened and she immediately took me to the emergency room. They numbed my finger and I had to get five stitches. I was so afraid because I never got stitches before. In the end I learned my lesson from this incident that I shouldn’t have been playing around with a knife so young without a parent being present. Till this day I still have the scar on my right thumb and every time I look at it, it reminds me of this day.
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