Undergraduate / 'track was for fun' - extraciricular essay [2]

I don't run to be in the Olympics. I don't run to strive to be Usain bolt. I run for myself, for my teammates. I run to get that applause, to get that "good job" from Coach. Track became a part of me that made me want to spend my afterschool time not on the computer but outside on the fields.

It was during my junior year of high school that I had realized this. I remember joining the track team during middle school but it was merely for fun. The coach would pick the members who she thought ran well during the fitness gram. Then we would go once every two weeks to a match with the other surrounding Manhattan middle schools. We didn't have practices and on the day of the match, we would skip school. To me, track was for fun, not something to get worked up for. But high school was when I started viewing track in a different light.

"Run! Get a move on it Michelle. Keep those legs high up in the air! C'mon girls!" It's 5:30pm and we are still out in the yard, running around the field. It was probably our 20th time. While running, time seemed to never end, it felt as if I were constantly running and never stopped. Despite all this, I started to love track because it made me realize that I could do all these pushups and made me want to strive to get that faster time.

pls help me edit it. i know im rly bad at grammar so it would be nice if you could help!! im submitting this in 2 days! thanks c;

Writing Feedback / I ate the candy eleven years ago but the bitterness and sweetness of life remains! [7]

The two beggars still lay on the street. It's 6pm. The wind is bristling and roaring as I tuck my face back into my scarf and snuggle in to prevent my cheeks from turning any more red. My dad and I walk up the stairs slowly as I continue turning back looking at those beggars. One of them turns his head and looks at me. I quickly turn my head back.

"Dad, can I give them some of the food we bought..?"
"To who?"
"Them," I say, turning my head in the direction the beggars sat.
"Oh silly girl, you can't even take care of yourself and you want to give them food? Come on, let's go."
My dad continues walking up the stairs, leaving me in the dark. Without thinking, I run down the stairs and give the beggars a sandwich I had bought from the grocery a while ago. The beggars look up and one beggar puts his hand out in front of me. I reach my hand out and see a peppermint. I smile and quickly run back up the stairs to my grandmother's house.

"Thank you."
That was eleven years ago and ever since then, the peppermint has still been with me to this day. I ate the candy eleven years ago but the bitterness and sweetness of life remains. The sweetness of life includes from joining the track team to attending the College Now class at Hunter College. The bitterness of life includes from getting my neck injured to crying when my grandmother went back to China for vacation.

It was just a few days ago when this memory shook me hard. Hurricane Sandy had just struck New York and my grandmother's house was hit badly. For a few days, she didn't have any light on and the days just worsened. There was no water or electricity and the majority of the people had to walk down to the 4th floor and carry a bucket of water back to their own floor. For two days, I helped my grandmother carry water up and down the stairs. I realized how sweet candy can be sometimes here. When the 4th floor ran out of water during the second day here, everyone walked down to the first floor where water was and started bringing it up.

When I reached the first floor, I felt that I had bit into the sweetest candy ever. Volunteers and organizations were passing out food for people to eat. People lined up to receive their food, army men were guiding the people where to go and the most important thing of all, people cared. People cared that the east coast had just suffered from a hurricane. People carried that there were people starving. This memory made me realize that and sometimes, like a peppermint, life is bitter and can hit you hard but there are times where life is sweet as well.

critque and edit my grammar pls? it would help loads if you did that!

Undergraduate / Distant cousins? I have never heard of them/ Boston college essay [6]

hey guys i just wrote this essay and i would like some feedback on it. he ending was pretty abrupt..b/c i didn't know how to end it and it was pretty wordy as well. I know i need major work cos the essay is 570 words..but i dont know what to delete. pls correct my grammar and give me some feedback. i would love it if you guys did so c;,

The wind blew in my face as the door slowly creaked and finally, I saw them. A girl walks in front of me, bringing her hand in front of her. Hesitantly, I bring my hand up and shake it.

"Hello. My name is Emma."

My mind flashes back to a few days ago before this happened.

"(Name!)(Name!)(Name!) Come here! Your distant cousins are coming to Brooklyn to have a dinner party for the welcoming of their new child. They have invited us to come. We have to go shopping soon! Oh, aren't you guys excited?"

My mind remained blank as I stared at my mother.

Distant cousins? I have never heard of them and it was just remarkable how happy my mother was after receiving this news. Ever since I turned 13 and was prime, I would continuously ask for clothes and only come back with her turning me down and saying, "dear, you have enough clothes." The thought of her buying me new clothes for this one day striked me hard. This one phone call had the ability of changing her mind in a split second and changing her.

"hello? Michelle? Are you there?"
I grasp back to reality and see the girl in front of me, waving her hand in front of me to make sure I was still there. Her other sister is next to her and her parents are behind her. I looked at them and knew right at that instant that they were different. Their skin was so white, so clear. There eyes were dark brown. They had small freckles on their noses and their clothing was extravagant. They wore rich red velvet clothing that looked like they cost a few hundred. The girl was just as tall as me but I felt like a peasant next to them. Me, in my dress from old navy and them with their dress from (rich store).

"Hi. I'm Michelle"

We walk inside the restaurant and sit at a table. I gathered my confidence to look at the place. The dim lights radiated each table. Red cloth was wrapped gently around the chair showing its divine shape. The floor screamed velvet red and looked so nice I felt like I could sleep on it.

Emma sat next to me and starting introducing herself to me. It was here that I had realized that my grandfather's sister had a daughter who married a white man. It was remarkable to know this. We both lived in new York but it felt as if we lived on two different islands. We had never met for the first thirteen years of our life. I never felt anything that was so close but felt so far away.

Instantly, we started chatting and talking about our daily lives. From this, I realized that they were abnormally rich. They had all they wanted, a big house with swings in the front and a pool. It screamed to me and made me realize that we really were on the opposite ends of the world. That it was only now that we had crossed paths and even still, I felt faint hearing her tell me all this luxury.

That night, I learned about my distant cousins and I realized that in my small little apartment, filled with wooden flooring, walls with small little cracks here and there, lights so dim that even during the day, it was pretty dark, a new person had entered it, and that was my cousin.