Undergraduate / 'The dean and the award ceremony' - common app essay- open topic [5]

this is my first draft- it hasnt been revised in any way
so i would very much appreciate all ur comments!
thank You

Time spent flipping through Teen Vogue highlighting how to flaunt mascara tripled the gap between me and my goal of becoming a logical and powerful debater- or so, I thought.

Like an acne control cream that unclogs even the most congested pores, debate concealed my girly, yet seemingly shallow pursuits. When discussing practicality, benefit and need of the policies proposed by the Oval House, exchanging fierce crossfire, and honing my rhetorical skills, my intelligence acted up; it overpowered the opponents and enthralled the audience. The debater Chloe who embodies the Southern sensibility never appeared to click with the party-girl Chloe embracing So-cal vibe. And my failure to make a top debater was an alarming wake-up call: Chloe, you have tested out your choices, stop spreading yourself too thin and commit to your debate career. Still, I could never discard my old habit of stepping to my endless rack of tabloids with 959 different style tips and 366 special offers that guarantee a whole new makeover with Maybelline.

Yet, the next debate competition awaited me with the Pepto-Bismol to settle my traumatizing indecisions. The topic was to come up with a policy to tackle with the worldwide problem of financial collapse. Gut-wrenching. My team was daunted by the apparent grandeur of the policies polished with much data and never-before-heard terms. However, I mustered up my courage. Then the next minute, I found myself marching towards the podium, while fending off the piercing and demeaning glances of the opponents. Held tight onto my grip was CosmoGirl. I feigned confidence to assure my teammates who were overcome with insecurity as they listened to the opponents lay out their policy of unifying currency. Ours was about increasing consumption on a grassroots level by revitalizing cosmetics industry. After the policy presentation, the professors drilled us with questions. And this is where my love of tabloids kicked in and paid high dividends. Our specific, step-by-step policies with ample examples gleaned from indulging in the Promotion section of the tabloids heated up the otherwise dull atmosphere while the other teams slipped over with the intimidating facts they failed to fully absorb.

In the award ceremony, our names were never spoken by the Dean... until her trembling voice shrieked the names of the Grand Champion. According to the professors, passion and creativity gave us the winning vote. Unlike the other teams who were marked by vagueness, we showed practical and innovative plan. The elusive combo of a Beverly Hills 90210 and a hard-core debate surely left a distinct impression on the judges.

The incongruence ended up as the best harmony. It is possible to mix up the factors situated on the opposite sides of the spectrum and still retain their most captivating aspects to the fullest. My fun-loving demeanor adds a pinch of pep to an academic seriousness. When life hands me many different choices, I am no longer obliged to whittle down the options and select the one that only represents the narrow dimension of me. Knowing how to place the two contrasting sides together presents a great opportunity for me to stretch out my potential.

Such a powerful combo is what makes me shine the way I truly am.

Undergraduate / Common application - Tinkerbell [6]

Chloe the Tinkerbell

He trudged into the living room and plopped down on the sofa. Rolling up his sleeves out of fatigue, he closed his squinted eyes- the calm and warm vibe of the house was a welcome relief from the icy cold wind outside.

Then something went swooshing past the living room. Treating the sound like he would an annoying alarm clock at six on a Saturday morning, he went back to let only the tick-tocking of the clock seep into his mind.

However, the familiar rhythm was interrupted by a smell of hot, creamy cocoa. He opened his eyes to see tiny Chloe's huge sparkling eyes fixed on the cup, and her delicate footsteps were swallowed by the fluffy carpet. As she neared the sofa, her petite fingers seemed unable to handle the steam out of the cup. He reached for the cup. As soon as her hands were free of the burdensome heat, Chloe scurried back to her room. After he took a couple of sips into the cocoa, a fairyland princess carrying her Tinkerbell sashayed down the hallway to add flare and perks to the otherwise dull atmosphere. Pink rhinestones emblazoned on her dress shined through her big, genuine smile. While he was busy gaping at the sight, Chloe was quick to stand on a soapbox- poised to perform as the theme melody of Peter Pan tinkled out of the CD player. At this hour, most little girls were safely tucked in their sound sleep. However, instead of letting her pink, cozy blanket comfort her, Chloe was out in the lounge cheering for her dad.

Yep, so that was me, the sweet Tinkerbell. Like Tinkerbell who lit up the pitch black sky with a twinkle of her gold pixie dust, my tiny stature made a huge statement. I loved sharing my overflowing pep and vigor with the others. A minute spent on ruing over setbacks meant the entire sixty seconds of smiling I would never get back. As a self-proclaimed Tinkerbell, I was entitled to a sense of obligation to stir in glittering sprinkles of happiness. This didn't only apply to friends and family. Even Starsie the pony, who eventually outgrew my stature, came to rely on me.

During our not-so-friendly first encounter at Taupaki Pony Club down the Amreins Road, she refused to move during the game of Follow the Leader, causing my fellow riders to vent off their frustration on me. Even after my instructor Anna gave me a big hug and said that Starsie has just been broken in, thus not very comfortable with a saddle and a rider on her back, I just couldn't take it in stride. The spacey look in her deep brown eyes kept me kept my emotions topsy-turvey for hours. Thankfully, the Pony Club was only a few houses away; I strolled down the road everyday just to spend time with Starsie. Starsie seemed like a bullied victim, crouching in the corner in fear as a chestnut stallion ruled the stable. I gave her a gentle brush and pampered her appetite with apples. About a week or so later, I found myself and Starsie snuggling; I burst out into laughter as she sneezed on my face. Her hair was now in a good shape and she was no longer grouchy even to the new kids.

However, these fairytale-like moments didn't last too long. I froze upon learning that she has had a chronic illness ever since her birth. The medications were no longer of any use. She had no option but to get an injection that slightly prolonged the span of her life, but with much pain. I was banned from seeing her.

Then Anna called me over.

As I arrived, she took out a bottle of icy water. Her lips were shivering and her hand was trembling as she poured more than the usual amount. With tears in her eyes, she turned and broke the news to me. "Starsie was put down this morning". Heart-wrenching.

As Tinkerbell, it was hard for me to break down and cry. I had always thought that crying was someone else's job, and comforting them was indeed my duty. I was afraid to show that I too was sometimes baffled and upset. I needed someone that has also experienced the loss of the loved. Neither sympathy nor a clown was the solution. This is when I saw that maybe I wasn't always the perfect Tinkerbell. Sure, I could make them smile on the spot but they needed a person to guzzle a drink with anger, and sip the latte with regrets.

Starsie is gone. But she left aside an opportunity- a chance to seek the new Tinkerbell in me. This time, a more compassionate one- not merely a cheerleader in a pep rally but a shoulder to cry on.