Undergraduate / "transition to college" - Common Application Essay on Diversity [3]

First of all I would like to thank anyone who takes the time to read my essay and comment on it.
Standing in the center of a terminal I held the hand of a stranger as I anxiously looked out for two individuals whom for 5 years had remained faceless and unattached to my childhood. My anxiety turned into insecurity as I keep my tears from flowing down my cheeks reminiscing over the great memories that the distance and the winds had absorbed over a period of seven hours. Months before my travel, I had prepared for a predetermined loneliness, understanding that it was time for change. I was convinced that this was my opportunity to seek my own dream and become the first college graduate of my family, however my emotions engaged in a battle of resentment, wishing to go back to my native land.

Months after my arrival, I ...

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I edited my essay, can someone check for spelling and grammar mistakes. Thank you!

"Fight! Fight! Fight! " screamed a crowd of eight year olds, as the sound of every blow echoed on the walls of the cafeteria. Every half a minute, I could hear the moans of the boy reassuring me that he was still alive but in pain. I could not take it anymore, it was injustice, it was racism. For the past month since the young Indian boy had enrolled in the afterschool program, this scene had become a typical attraction for most boys in our grade.

Enough was enough. I did not know what came over me or what I was thinking, all I knew was that I held my Atlas of the world on my right hand as I walked a distance of three tables. I tapped the bully's shoulder. He turned around. I raised my right hand and slammed the Atlas on his right cheek as I screamed, "STOP!" The crowd grew silent; the bully glared at me, raised his fist, but walked away to the back of the room. I kneeled and attempted to pick up the slender, bruised body off the floor. From that moment on, I have become the Atlas girl. The lonely girl in the corner who had enough nerve to stand up to a kid, twice her size, who believed in white superiority and had an ego bigger than himself.

Two days after the incident, the Indian boy, and two girls approached me. They said, "thank you" and sat beside me. I smiled and said, "Hello," but that was as far as it went. The days passed and the same scene repeated over and over. That is when I discovered I had befriend a group of three kids, each with a different language, different origins and stories left untold for the obvious barriers of language. It is particularly interesting that despite our differences we managed to play a good game of soccer, hide and seek or a share a simple laugh. Our communication was complicated but promising. Together we broke language barriers and unraveled the mysteries of our cultures. After two years of a long lasting friendship, I learned how to dance samba like an amateur dancer of Rio de Janeiro, handle and love the spices of Indian food-my favorite the Chicken tikka-and grew accustomed to receiving a red envelope and an invitation to the Chinese New Year. I had discovered that I lived in Newark and that a simple gracias, obrigado, Xie xie, Shukriyaa were just other ways of saying thank you and all were worth the token of appreciation. It was then and there, I believe, when my tolerance for others extended further than the common respect I was taught to give. Unconsciously, I had understood the concept of diversity. The encyclopedias that I often read as a child had taken me to different parts of the world, however, those three friends had made the world tangible and my love for discovery and cultural involvement deepening and exciting.

Almost nine years since my encounter with Andre, Safar, and Yuiki, I find myself sitting in my history class reminiscing on our days of silent friendship as my teacher quotes Jimmy Carter: "We have become not a melting pot but a beautiful mosaic. Different people, different beliefs, different yearnings, different hopes, different dreams." That is when I realize that we had constructed a cultural mosaic that pieced together a picture of friendship and commitment.

Influenced by my past cultural experiences, I have engaged in the extensive task of college search with my mind set on finding a college with rigor, wise professors, classes that cater business or humanities, and most importantly diversity-cultural diversity. I look forward to becoming part of a university's multi-cultural conglomeration that hopefully would shape a cultural mosaic similar to the one I had constructed nine years ago.

Undergraduate / How I became who I am- Columbia personal Statement- Help Condense [5]

First of all I would like to thank anyone reading this post.

Write an essay which conveys to the reader a sense of who you are. Possible topics may include, but are not limited to, experiences which have shaped your life, the circumstances of your upbringing, your most meaningful intellectual achievement, the way you see the world - the people in it, events great and small, everyday life - or any personal theme which appeals to your imagination. Please remember that we are concerned not only with the substance of your prose but with your writing style as well. We prefer that you limit yourself to approximately 250-500 words (or 1-2 pages).

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This is my essay:

Life is a steep, rocky mountain with narrow paths that face prevailing winds. At the moment of our first breath we become hikers and begin our journey at the very bottom of our mountain. However, before the journey begins, every single one of us has metaphorically been given at least a pair of boots and a bottle of water. For the first stages of my life, I was only given a promising shade whenever the sun was overwhelming. It was not until I reached my eighth year of climbing that my canteen was filled. At that very stage where every girl learns how to make cakes with their mother and ride a bike with their father, I was just beginning to learn the names of my biological parents.

In the beginning, resentment had blinded me; I hated them for leaving me behind, for waiting so long to meet me. I just wanted my life back, my language, and my aunt. I cried every night. I felt like a guest in their house. It took a year for my resentment to fade away and begin to accept their love and the concept of a family unit. After long afternoons listening to them reminisce on their immigration and the reasons for their heartbreaking decision, I understood that their absence was reasoned by their search for the American dream.

Soon enough, Sunday's of charity work, housing immigrant families, finding them a job, and chatting at the dinner table began to melt my cold heart and allow my parent's tenderness to penetrate, while their humbleness and hard work began to reflect on my personality. I became amiable, simple and humble; I even put on the effort to learning English and overachieving in every aspect of my school life..

Three years later the announcements of an unplanned pregnancy shock my happiness. In nine months, I was going to become the older child, the role model, the helping hand-a sister. However, after his birth the usual walks in the parks were long gone, supper was usually lonely, and there was never a quiet moment to tell my parents the great news of my straight A report card, or my promotion to a Gifted and Talented Class. They soon forgot my birthday and at times even my name. I resented that child; I wished he was never born. I understood he needed attention, but it seemed like I had become a shadow in the wall or the usual decoration of a family picture. It seemed as if he was their first child. He was teaching them how to fill his canteen and how provide some shade; whereas for me, they were just leading me to the next river, where I could fill the canteen myself.

Today, I realize that destiny took its toll. The child I resented so much had actually brought my climbing boots under his arm. Upon his birth, I was able to replace my old sneakers for a pair of Timberland boots. His cry for attention was my step to independence. My parent's sudden neglect became a driving force for the development of a premature maturity, my sense of independence, and determination for life. After his birth, I was able to combine the soft heart and joyful personalities--that I had retained from my parents-with the head strong, determined girl I had become. The sun is brighter, the slope is steeper, but now I know my way to the river, I have a trusty shade to rely on and long lasting boots.

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This essay is 628 words, please help me make it better and condense it to 500. Thank you.