Undergraduate / "A visual arts student." - UC Prompt "Describe the world you come from [3]

Hey guys, so, I kind of just brained-dumped my idea onto the paper, so it may be rough... is it too colloquial? Any glaring mistakes? Let me know what you think. Thanks!

I have never seen a high school football game. I am unused to anything but a five to one ratio of girls to boys in a classroom. I can't image walking along a horizontal plane to get from class to class. I go to the Orange County High School of the Arts, OCHSA for short. There is no football field - the kids who know enough about the sport to play use a section of the teacher parking lot as their arena, there are multiple all girl classes, and many of our classes are in an old bank building, which means that there are seven floors students clamber up and down to reach their next class.

Growing up at OCHSA has been a memorable experience, to say the least. During the academic day, I spend six rigorous hours trying to cram as much math, English, and other intellectual subjects into my brain as possible, much like any other high schooler would. But when the bell rings at the end of each day, signaling the conclusion of my role as an anonymous, pedestrian student, I - a bit like Clark Kent, I'd like to think - shed my drab alter ego and become something much greater.

A visual arts student.

Every day of the week, I am part of the great process known as Conservatory. For another four hours after the academic day has ended, I labor through blood, sweat, and tears to master my craft. I paint, draw, sculpt, design, and metal-smith my way towards perfection - though perfection is seldom, if ever, the result. As a fresh-faced 12-year old first arriving at OCHSA, I was convinced that by the time I graduated, I would be a master of all things visual arts; of course, I was wrong. Learning is, surprisingly, a learning experience. More importantly, it is an indefinite and all encompassing one. It doesn't matter what the subject is. Arts, math, science, one can never know everything about any of them. I never stop learning. And, though some of my peers would call this out as an outlandish statement, I do enjoy going to school and learning. I love what I do. I get to interact with brilliant artists - fellow students - on a daily basis; I take inspiration from them and in turn, grow as an artist in my own right. I am privileged to have been able to work with them and, as I gradually journey into the vast unknown, also known as "college", I want to be able to take the spirit OCHSA cultures in all its students and apply it to everything I do. I want to inspire and be inspired. I want to be a part of something great. I want to learn.

Undergraduate / "In Being a Banana: A Cultural Mishap" - General questions on format & prompt ComApp [9]

Hey guys, I'm applying early, so I would really like some feedback on my common app essay.

1) I feel like it doesn't really fit into any of the preset prompts, so it'd be #6, the "Pick your own topic" one. Can it fit in any of the others?

2) Is it to negative? Do I focus on my weaknesses too much?
3) Just general feedback would be great! Thanks!

In Being a Banana: A Cultural Mishap

The language of my ancestors, my mother, father, and grandparents, is lost to me. With the brief exception of a few common phrases I learned when I was much younger, I can no more understand the tongue than the average American. There are times when I regret never having learned to speak Vietnamese - times of disassociation and cultural loss. How can I communicate with my great-grandmother, who doesn't speak a word of English? How do I truly appreciate my cousin's wedding when it's a traditional Vietnamese ceremony? However, despite my lack of this important quality, I am constantly surprised about what my heritage has to teach me.

Yes, this unfortunate quality of mine can sometimes be detracting; I am constantly getting befuddled questions demanding I explain why I can't speak my own language. But the traditions and culture of my parents will always be there, building structure into my life and purpose into my actions. Sometimes it manifests itself in the small thing - bowing to elders when greeting them, taking off shoes when entering a house - insignificant actions, really. More often it's in a big way - the drive to succeed, to work hard, and to make something of myself. My parents had to flee to America because their country was tearing itself apart; and it wasn't easy living as a foreigner in 1970's America. If they could leave their home and rebuild their lives from the ground up in a country where they could barely understand the language and had absolutely no social standing, what excuses could I possibly have for doing anything but my best?

I admit, I'm not Hercules; I haven't performed awe-inspiring or shocking feats. I'm not worldly; I have never gone on life changing trips to help people in third-world countries. I can't even speak two languages fluently. I am what some Asians call a "Banana" - yellow on the outside, white on the inside. I obviously lack in some areas, linguistic understanding of culture and vast amounts of life experience being no exception. But I can't help but be proud of where I come from. I don't believe in giving less than my best - to myself or to others. And who knows, it's never too late; maybe someday I'll finally learn how to speak Vietnamese.