Undergraduate / Common App. - Inspiring person to run for Governor [7]

Inspiration - that magic word has for centuries motivated people to achieve the impossible. When I met Sara at Girls State this year that is exactly what she did - inspire me to run for Governor.

As Governor of Girls State 2009, Sara presided over the 2010 week at ... University. With 600 competitive girls eyeing each other with caution and craving for attention, you would think, that there would be little chance of her talking to me. But, the day I met Sara will be etched in my memory forever. Her first question to me was: "Are you running for anything?" I said no, because I was not sure what I wanted to do at Girls State. But her question sparked something inside me. Maybe, I should run for something. The nightmare of fourth-grade SCA elections, when I had ran for historian and garnered only nine votes, came back to haunt me. Of course, I figured popularity played a part in school elections. But how was Girls State any different? Surrounded by gorgeous models and social butterflies, my insecurities flared up. The Girls State world intimidated me. My list of credentials did not matter in the august crowd of intelligent, talented young ladies. I realized I feared failure and decided to undertake this as a challenge.

When I announced to my city that I was running for governor, I received immense support. It felt great to be loved. While I worked on my nomination speech, the girls in my city set out quickly to make witty posters, colorful bandanas, and come up with cheers for me. One cheer in particular made me smile: "You're so fine, you're so fine, you blow my mind!" Without their support, I would have backed out of my goal. But what really kept me going was the idea of being just like Sara. I wanted to be sophisticated like her. I wanted to be poised in manner and speech like her. I wanted to be everything that I wasn't. But I was different in my own way and that's why my city supported me.

Sara represented Barrett City, my city, last year. She stayed in our dorm for the rest of the week. Before my nomination speech, she asked me about my platform and gave me a couple of tips. I figured it was her duty to encourage everyone, but nonetheless, I felt honored that she took time out of her schedule to talk to me. As the day for the convention approached, I practiced my speech harder because I wanted to make her proud of her former city. On the day of the convention election, while giving my speech, I looked to the back, to find her sitting there. She had come to listen to my speech. She, the former governor of Girls State, had come to listen to me, an ordinary girl with just a dream, give a speech. She probably doesn't know it, but her presence gave me courage. Her presence made me realize that I had potential to always reach for the best. Her presence made me stronger to face failure, if it were to happen again. I won, though. I shed tears of joy, to know that the girls in my party had accepted me.

That night, we went back to the dorms together. She told me about her experience at Girls State and how she prepared for the final election. She told me to relax and take it easy. That night, I went to sleep thinking, "It's not about me. I want to represent my city and the people who support me."With the final elections, I lost to a better and more qualified candidate. The loss did not bother me, because looking back at that week, I had made a personal victory.

We had a chat before Sara left for home. Our open-hearted conversation felt energizing; I cried and I laughed, and I was glad to have met her. She has inspired me in many ways: to overcome my fears, expand my horizons, and reach for the stars. And maybe, Dr. Seuss was right, "There are some things, down the road between hither and yon, that can scare you so much you won't want to go on." But on I'll go...

All comments and criticism are appreciated. I hope I didn't make anyone's eyes bleed. XD
I feel that my writing is childish and just bland.
-Harini

Undergraduate / Admission Essay-- The Soup [6]

My eyes slowly crack open, focusing then blurring out. I awake from the darkness wanting to connect to civilization, yet I am restricted. My body refuses the neurological commands. From somewhere faraway, a faint, incessant tone fills the silent room with a vibe of hope. I turn my head to the side, to see a figure walking closer. "Amma?" slips out of my mouth. Her warm hand caresses this hidden pain I feel. "I'm sorry." I say. Warm drops hit my arm and run away as she sobs, holding on to me. Her lips move inaudibly and I stare, slowly trying to find the recipe for this chaos. But I can't find the ingredients that belong in this soup. Nothing makes sense. And everything goes dark.

The broth. My eyes open with a new surge of energy, yet focusing seems to be difficult. My hearing sharper than before, can detect the sounds of civilization: the flutter of human bodies, dialogue in a familiar language, and sounds of car horns blazing outside this prison. I lift myself up, but immediately receive help. I'm given something in my hand; glasses. I put them on, and the world is clear. I peak around: the white walls, the white floors, the white sheets, the white coats, the white's of my mother's eyes, turning red from fatigue. The doctors and nurses rush to me, put a thermometer in my mouth, and start interrogating in Telugu. I don't have the recipe and neither do they.

The vegetables. My mother sits and feeds me. She explains what I don't remember. A seizure so devastating, I had lost control of all my senses and my consciousness. All I can think now, is how my exotic summer vacation in India has turned into a nightmare. My grandparents and mother take turns caring for me as my father calls from Virginia. He talks to the doctors asking for immediate diagnosis and then he talks to me in a weary voice, full of concern. I reminiscence my father's seizure three years ago that shocked our family. Now, my seizure has once again given my mother Hell. Blood tests, urine tests, and blood pressure levels are taken, but they show no signs of disease. The days in the hospital seem longer, as I absorb packets of IV fluid and I even begin to smell like medicine. The doctors finally conclude that I be taken to a testing facility for an EEG, MRI, and a CT scan. I still don't have the recipe, but the tests might have it.

Bringing it to a boil. I am driven across town in an ambulance to the testing facility. I lay down, and the doctors attach the many metal rods to my scalp. EEG: negative. They wheel me to the MRI machine and I fall asleep, as the machine is put to work. The doctors call my name, and I'm immediately awake. They have news.

Salt, Pepper, and Garnish. I am diagnosed with a rare disorder of the brain: cavernous angioma; the same disorder my father has. My father and I are part of 0.4% of the population. The soup is done. The vegetables have soaked in the broth and the salt and pepper complete the soup. All I have to do is to eat. And after I'm done, I'll still be me. I'll still have my passion for music, my aspirations to travel the world, and my morals and values. The only thing different is that I'll know the recipe and how the soup tastes.

How is it? I don't know if it is an appropriate topic for a college admissions essay. I mean, I'm not showing who I really am, but rather an event. How do I tweak this, but keep my "soup" format?

Letters / A Thank you note to a teacher - opening sentence? [4]

I want to write a thank you note for a teacher, and I know what I want to write, but I just cannot get the right words together for my opening sentence. I have had this teacher for four years, and his teaching and class mean so much to me, that I'm scared I might sound ridiculous in my letter. Any help?