thatoneguy
Sep 22, 2020
Scholarship / QuestBridge National College Match Essay: Biography - more about myself [2]
Hi, all! I'm Jonathan C.
I am not sure if this would belong here or in the Writing Feedback section so, if it doesn't belong here, I apologize!
I am applying to QuestBridge's National College Match and would genuinely appreciate feedback on my biographical essay. It is a deeply personal essay, of course, but I want to frame my story in the best light possible.
Question: We are interested in learning more about you and the context in which you have grown up, formed your aspirations, and accomplished your academic successes. Please describe the factors and challenges that have most shaped your personal life and aspirations. How have these factors helped you to grow?
Essay:
A huge, goofy smile appeared across my face; I had done it. The theater flooded with applause and among it were booming waves of claps, whistles, and encores blended amongst one another. My 3rd grade class play had finally arrived. After countless hours of aching rehearsal, I had finished, precisely, my role in our play, The Polar Express. On stage, as I stepped foot on the train. my mind couldn't help but wander to faint memories of watching the film with my father at my side; the exact film I was performing in. Following the performance, my friends and I buoyantly accepted our awards in the gaze of the spotlight. As I descended the stage, among the jungle of faces shrouded around me, I only ever found one that was familiar: my mother's, Julie.
Over the span of my life, finding only the face of my mother was a concept I came to accept; the face of my father, John, was largely absent. His long-term battle with alcoholism into my early childhood resulted in his sudden separation from our family. Following the separation, my mother and I found ourselves part of a tug of war on unstable ground; she, without despair, encountered numerous obstacles in finding and maintaining stable employment as we often had to relocate. As I began to attend new schools, as a visually impaired pupil, doing well in just any school was, admittedly, easier said than done. I used to wear dark, silly glasses among my classmates and had to pull homework close to my eyes to read the tiny print. In the short time that I had in my schools, I adapted as well as I could and only made the best of it. Nonetheless, my mother soon took notice of my struggle in public school; she knew that a more permanent decision was the ideal choice for our success.
Of all the schools I had experienced, my mother and I both knew only one was where I truly belonged. In time, we found ourselves in the small, historical town of St. Augustine, Florida. To this town, we had been before; however, this time, her and I both found what we had been hunting for. My mother is a born caregiver; she was grateful to find a stable job as a travel nurse where she gave care to our elderly across the town. I, on the other hand, found my second home: The Florida School for the Blind. Here, I found lifelong friends, materials and tools once out of reach, and endless opportunity. As time went on and we eventually became comfortable, my father suddenly reached out to us; it had been many years since I last spent time with him and, although still young, was a shock to me. It took my mother and I some time to reply but, ultimately, my father drove many hours to see me after so long. Once he arrived, admittedly, I had never hugged someone as tightly as I did that day.
Largely throughout my life, a void my father once occupied has remained; however, I truly felt an absence of love was never so. At the thought of him, never was nor is there a moment anything other than love fills the chambers of my heart. My mother found it paramount to never let me forget how much he loved me and missed me but, as a naive youth, I couldn't fully understand; though, as the years went by, I began to. In the handful of times I have seen him since he returned, we've laughed, cried, and have made up for as much lost time as possible. Despite the bumpy road to where I am today, he and my mother have sincerely changed my outlook on life. My mother, with all her tears, sweat, and blood that have shed for me, as well as her selflessness towards the people she aids; my father, with his ruthless triumph over the mountain of alcoholism, tirelessly searching for a path back to us. These two loving souls, who I am deeply honored to call my parents, have taught me nothing but ruthless perseverance and sacrifice, even in the face of seemingly insurmountable challenge. I truly long to do nothing less than ensure them the same love and success they have collectively paved into the pathways that I have taken and will take in my life.
Hi, all! I'm Jonathan C.
I am not sure if this would belong here or in the Writing Feedback section so, if it doesn't belong here, I apologize!
I am applying to QuestBridge's National College Match and would genuinely appreciate feedback on my biographical essay. It is a deeply personal essay, of course, but I want to frame my story in the best light possible.
biographical, personal essay
Question: We are interested in learning more about you and the context in which you have grown up, formed your aspirations, and accomplished your academic successes. Please describe the factors and challenges that have most shaped your personal life and aspirations. How have these factors helped you to grow?
Essay:
A huge, goofy smile appeared across my face; I had done it. The theater flooded with applause and among it were booming waves of claps, whistles, and encores blended amongst one another. My 3rd grade class play had finally arrived. After countless hours of aching rehearsal, I had finished, precisely, my role in our play, The Polar Express. On stage, as I stepped foot on the train. my mind couldn't help but wander to faint memories of watching the film with my father at my side; the exact film I was performing in. Following the performance, my friends and I buoyantly accepted our awards in the gaze of the spotlight. As I descended the stage, among the jungle of faces shrouded around me, I only ever found one that was familiar: my mother's, Julie.
Over the span of my life, finding only the face of my mother was a concept I came to accept; the face of my father, John, was largely absent. His long-term battle with alcoholism into my early childhood resulted in his sudden separation from our family. Following the separation, my mother and I found ourselves part of a tug of war on unstable ground; she, without despair, encountered numerous obstacles in finding and maintaining stable employment as we often had to relocate. As I began to attend new schools, as a visually impaired pupil, doing well in just any school was, admittedly, easier said than done. I used to wear dark, silly glasses among my classmates and had to pull homework close to my eyes to read the tiny print. In the short time that I had in my schools, I adapted as well as I could and only made the best of it. Nonetheless, my mother soon took notice of my struggle in public school; she knew that a more permanent decision was the ideal choice for our success.
Of all the schools I had experienced, my mother and I both knew only one was where I truly belonged. In time, we found ourselves in the small, historical town of St. Augustine, Florida. To this town, we had been before; however, this time, her and I both found what we had been hunting for. My mother is a born caregiver; she was grateful to find a stable job as a travel nurse where she gave care to our elderly across the town. I, on the other hand, found my second home: The Florida School for the Blind. Here, I found lifelong friends, materials and tools once out of reach, and endless opportunity. As time went on and we eventually became comfortable, my father suddenly reached out to us; it had been many years since I last spent time with him and, although still young, was a shock to me. It took my mother and I some time to reply but, ultimately, my father drove many hours to see me after so long. Once he arrived, admittedly, I had never hugged someone as tightly as I did that day.
Largely throughout my life, a void my father once occupied has remained; however, I truly felt an absence of love was never so. At the thought of him, never was nor is there a moment anything other than love fills the chambers of my heart. My mother found it paramount to never let me forget how much he loved me and missed me but, as a naive youth, I couldn't fully understand; though, as the years went by, I began to. In the handful of times I have seen him since he returned, we've laughed, cried, and have made up for as much lost time as possible. Despite the bumpy road to where I am today, he and my mother have sincerely changed my outlook on life. My mother, with all her tears, sweat, and blood that have shed for me, as well as her selflessness towards the people she aids; my father, with his ruthless triumph over the mountain of alcoholism, tirelessly searching for a path back to us. These two loving souls, who I am deeply honored to call my parents, have taught me nothing but ruthless perseverance and sacrifice, even in the face of seemingly insurmountable challenge. I truly long to do nothing less than ensure them the same love and success they have collectively paved into the pathways that I have taken and will take in my life.