Undergraduate / I was supposed to write an essay about my identity and use a picture of myself.. [4]

When you stare at the picture long enough you can see the sadness behind the smile; it has always been so comforting to hide behind. If you quickly glance you can spot my messy dark brown hair and tan skin, these are simple known facts. The aspect of this picture that is more complicated is not what I look like but how others perceive me. Other's perception of me does in fact, shape who I am. It affects my behavior and my personality because since I was a little girl other's opinions have been my top priority. People usually say I'm quiet, calm, easy-going, and nonchalant about everything but I don't want to be those things at all. The more I hear "quiet" and "shy" the more I try to change myself, the more I dread my identity and personality. Others have influenced one major belief of myself: I will never be good enough. The people in my life haven't caused me pain in my perception but I have. No one put these horrible conflicting emotions and thoughts inside my mind. Nobody but me. I haven't been one to take risks because I fear rejection from others, absolutely fear it. I crave reassurance. I have experienced rejection like being picked last or not having a partner for a group project but that's not enough to form such insecure thoughts is it? On the surface I am seen as young student trying to make an impact. I'm a varsity athlete, AP honor student from a Mexican middle-class family. My ethnicity impacts how I am perceived because even prestigious colleges look down on me because of it. People see my letterman jacket and skin color and immediately two things pop in their head: minority and athlete. Being Mexican has not impacted me harshly because I can't change my families' heritage without being a liar but my shyness has caused some conflict. Girls especially mistake my quiet demeanor as being unfriendly and rude and maybe even a bit mean. It makes me feel horrible about myself because I know how it feels to be unwelcome and I never purposely wanted someone to feel that way. The way I am perceived causes me pain but also much happiness. Tiny compliments lift my day and make me proud of how I am perceived in this large, confusing world.

Writing Feedback / AP English class, We need to write a 300-400 essay on WHAT HOME IS? [5]

My teacher wanted it to be vague and open. So he left the creativity up to us. This is so far what i have... Any suggestions to make it better? I STILL HAVE TO DO THE LAST PARAGRAPH TO TIE IT UP.

It hurts to leave a home. It hurts to love and to lose. To leave something you have planted in the soil with love, hate, and happiness flowing the roots. A home is also protection, a bond between a human and their home. A bond between a human and something they love.

I have not lost my home, because a home is not a place, structure, or a coordinate on a map. It is somewhere I can laugh about the meaningless moments in life, where I can sing on the top of my lungs in the shower, and where I can sleep soundly in the warmth of my own bed. A home is a garden. It is full of life- flowers, trees, air. At first you might feel alone in a garden, hearing silence. From outside my window, my house is quiet, and all you can see is a glimmer of light. But once you walk through that garden or that house- you can feel the life. The butterflies, the morning dew on the edges of the leaves, and the sound of the wind blowing through the trees. The hidden love behind the door of the garden is opened.

But what happens once you have to leave that garden? When you say goodbye to everything you once knew? When you venture out past your safe haven and travel into the unknown? I am yet to find the answer, knowing I have year left at home before I begin my journey to a university.

Writing Feedback / Home is not a place, structure, or a coordinate on a map; What is home? [3]

What is home? Very broad topic.
Home is not a place, structure, or a coordinate on a map. It is somewhere I can laugh about the meaningless moments in life, where I can sing on the top of my lungs in the shower, and where I can sleep soundly in the warmth of my own bed. My home is a garden. Once you walk through that garden or that house--you can feel the life. The butterflies, the morning dew on the edges of the leaves, and the sound of the wind blowing through the trees. The life that resonates through a home is love, passion, and warmth.

But what happens once you have to leave that garden? When you say goodbye to everything you once knew? When you venture out past your haven and travel into the unknown? I am yet to find the answer. I am yet to travel to my university and leave my garden. The reason it hurts so much to leave a home is because a home is somewhere we plant our emotions deep in the soil, rendering our hearts, and capturing our souls. It is somewhere life thrives and where I feel safe. The difficulty in leaving home, is trying to rebuild a home. That is the frightening part. Having to figure out right from wrong and trying my best to not make mistakes, or make good mistakes. Having to find a purpose and find a passion, and run with it. To start over, and pull out the weeds, and plant my garden because home is not a place, it is a feeling of life. It gives us purpose in order to accomplish our dreams and catch our mistakes, heartbreaks, and the misfortune. As the wise saying goes ,"Home is where the heart is" and I am ready to travel to my garden and find my heart.

Any suggestions? Is it bad? I hope not.