Undergraduate / "a man was trying to get in" - UC Prompt- experience [3]

I'm wondering if my essay works for the prompt. I am using it for the Common App as well, so I changed it around to try to make it fit. Any feedback on the essay and content are greatly appreciated!

Prompt: Tell us about a personal quality, talent, accomplishment, contribution, or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud, and how does it relate to the person you are?

I don't trust myself in haunted houses, or watching scary movies. I am excitable, too ready to scream or jump up at any moment, not thinking about the embarrassment that I am causing myself. I like security, and knowing exactly what is going on and what I can expect.

Ironically though, the very experience that has had the greatest impact on my life thus far was the exact situation that under normal circumstances, I would avoid.

It was sophomore year, and I was home relaxing downstairs after a minimum day of school. Later, as I headed upstairs, I looked into the glass of a painting mounted on the wall. There I saw the reflection of the backyard where, positioned at the sliding glass door, a man was trying to get in. At first, I panicked and ran upstairs to where I could stand behind the wall and see the intruder without being visible myself. From there, I contemplated the options before me: fleeing out the front door, running to get the cell phone I had left downstairs, or screaming loudly enough to ward him off. But I didn't want to find out if he was armed, or if I would be outnumbered. So I ran to my room and locked the door.

From the shelter of my room, I could hear two men enter my home. I could hear the sounds of lifting and shifting, the grunts of the men and the sound of boxes sliding across the wood floor.

Looking back, I should have been more afraid. The excitable me would be the one I expected to be present. And yet I was calm, removed from the situation, as if my panic-stricken self had risen up to look down as the real me tried to make rational decisions. I comprehended the severity of the situation, but I was able to remain clear-headed and adapt to the situation before me, and survey the options I had.

Eventually I heard them in my sister's room, adjacent to my own, opening drawers and emptying the contents. I heard heavy footsteps across the creaking, carpet-covered floor. I watched as someone on the other side jiggled my door handle and cursed the lock under his breath. The burglar had spoken, he had given me something to identify him with, and all of a sudden it became very real. In that moment, I was terrified. I wanted to scream, to allow myself to be discovered, just to cut the suspense. But I could not allow my fear to take over, because once I did, it would run wild, traveling through my body to every muscle and every limb. So I waited.

In the end, the door stayed locked, the robbers left, and I was safe. The home invasion- a name that, to me, seems particularly appropriate- was shaking. My space and safety had been invaded and for the first time, I had been the victim of a crime.

Yet after this ordeal I held a strange sense of pride. The word "victim" is tricky because although I had been robbed of my sense of safety and of personal possessions, the experienced allowed me to see myself in a different light. Never before had I experienced something that had so acutely tested my ability to remain calm and rely on my instincts. I saw that I will be able to cope with not just the unexpected events of life, but also the high-stress job as the physician I aim to be, where decisions need to be made quickly and rationally. The robbery changed me in a way that made me more ready to go through the challenges of life, to confront the world with confidence, and more willing to do so.

Undergraduate / Villanova: Quality you will contribute "Patience" [2]

Hey so I'm a bit unsure about my essay here because I know the prompt will make it really easy to be super corny and cliche so I'm trying to stay away fromt hat, but I don't know if it's working. I would like some feedback mainly about if I have fully answered the prompt and if you at all get a sense of who I am as a person.

Thank you so much!

One of the core values of Villanova, as an Augustinian university founded on the teachings of St. Augustine, is that students and faculty learn from each other. As you imagine yourself as a member of the Villanova community, what is one lesson that you have learned in your life that you will want to share with others?

I come from the world of sandy hands and salty hair, where the beach is never far away, and summer seems like it can never come quickly enough. During the long summer days of my childhood, I spent my mornings at the beach with my grandpa. He taught me how to surf, hunt for sand crabs, and enjoy the good fortune we had to live in Southern California. We would arrive early, when the beach was still socked in with the morning fog and we had the sand and surf to ourselves. And by the end of our trip, when the sun had finally come out and our swimsuits were filled with sand, and our eyelashes and eyebrows coated in salt, we were content.

Each day was the same during my summers: beach with Grandpa, lunch with Grandma, playing outside, to be repeated the next day. Both my parents worked full-time so my sister and I would be at our grandparents' house the entire day, basking in their love and the sun outside. They were the entertainers, the spoilers, and most importantly, the teachers. My grandmother is perhaps the smartest person I know. In my family, she has always been called Dr. Grandma, for her encyclopedia-like knowledge of illnesses and anything else, and her never-ending quest for knowledge has shaped me into the motivated person I am today. Likewise, my grandpa has had a huge influence on the formation of my values and ideals. He never ceases to amaze me with his generosity and acceptance of others.

Things have changed since my childhood though. A number of years ago, my grandfather was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease, which I was prepared for due to his family history, but not always willing to accept. I have seen him change, and the attitudes toward him change. In many ways, he has always been a stubborn man, always standing firmly behind his ideas. But the Alzheimer's has exacerbated the situation. He lives by his habits and routines and lets no one get in the way. He has lost his ability to hold on to memories, and so he holds onto the only thing he can: his schedule.

It has put stress on my family to see him struggling with the disease, and we struggle too, not always knowing the best way to deal with him. It is so easy to become impatient and frustrated with his mannerisms. But I have always tried to fight against this tendency. I make a conscious effort not to ruffle his feathers, and to make sure that our relationship stays intact despite the difficulties.

I am fearful of the days when he begins to forget names, or where he lives, or who I am. But I know that it is inevitable, and the disease is going to progress. Because of this, I have committed to being the most patient person I can with him. I want to make sure that when I look back on our relationship, I don't regret my attitude. The challenges with my grandfather have taught me how to retain my composure even when I feel like growing frustrated. I do this because he is still the same grandpa who took me to the beach, who I bragged about to my friends because he could surf, and whose role in my life has been so large.

In college, I know that I will meet a multitude of new people, and it is likely that there will be some that I just don't get along with. It is in times like those that I will be able to look back on my experiences with my grandpa, and remember patience and understanding even when it is so easy not to. I can't change people, but I can change how I act towards them.

Undergraduate / UC app: describe the world you come from "Dr. Grandma" [3]

So I just wrote this. Don't be afraid to be harsh if it doesn't flow or make sense. Try not to get hung up on grammar issues, I'm really looking for feedback about content.

I come from the world of sandy hands and salty hair, where the beach is never far away, and summer seems like it can never come fast enough. During the long summer days of my childhood, I spent my mornings at the beach with my grandpa. He taught us how to surf, bodysurf, hunt for sand crabs, and enjoy the good fortune we had to live in Southern California. Every morning, when the beach was still socked in with the morning fog, and we had the beach to ourselves, we went with Grandpa. And by the end of our trip, when the sun had finally come out and our swimsuits were filled with sand, and when our eyelashes and eyebrows coated in salt, we would go home.

Once there, we would clean up and then go out to the living room where Grandma had lunch ready. With our Grandma on break from her work as a medical editor, we ate lunch, and watched television. But we were not watching Blue's Clues as most kids our age would. We were watching childbirth being prepared for, surgeries being performed, and medical rarities being explained. Our channel of choice was TLC where we could learn something new every day. It is called The Learning Channel, after all. And we loved it.

From an early age, Grandma instilled in me an insatiable desire for knowledge of any kind. She is a wealth of wisdom in our family, called Dr. Grandma for her medical knowledge and considered an encyclopedia for anything else. Whenever I see her, which is nearly every day, she has some new piece of information for me, a piece of knowledge that she wants to pass on so that I too can learn. Because of her influence, I have always been driven, both to get good grades and to actually learn things. I never fear an opportunity to learn more, I can't get enough, which is why my interest in both Spanish and Medicine is so strong. Language, to me, is a seemingly endless basin of knowledge and culture that I want to know intimately and to be able to use. I love Spanish, and almost equally, I love learning Spanish. The Medicine comes naturally too. I was, after all, watching the Discovery Health Channel so early on that I knew about more illnesses than I would ever be able contract on the playground.

I come from a world that encourages success, but even more than that encourages knowledge. I want to learn, and grow as a person, and be able to tell my grandchildren what is ailing them, and what the names of streets mean in English. I want to be Dr. Grandma.

Undergraduate / "Burglary" - Common App Essay: Significant Experience [3]

This is an early draft but I would like to see if people think what I'm trying to do is getting anywhere. I know that I need to add more about how it impacted me, so if you have any tips about how I can add that in without being too corny that'd be great. Thanks!

My mind was racing, my palms sweating, my hands shaking. I was paralyzed. The carpet felt harsh and unforgiving as I pressed myself against it. I didn't care about the imprint it would leave on my cheek.

Under normal circumstances, a minimum day would involve me and relaxation. That day was like any other at the start. But now I was trapped in my room, not daring to make a sound. I admit that keeping quiet was a challenge. I am a social person. I am the person who likes to laugh at the top of their lungs or cry out in times of frustration or pain. As a cashier, I get paid to interact with people, which seems like a pretty sweet deal. Sure, it might be repetitive, (the words "Corn or flour tortillas?" come out of my mouth more times than I could ever count during a shift), but anything that exercises my vocal cords that much is fine by me.

I had been climbing the stairs to get to the second floor when, in the reflection of the glass of a painting, I saw a stranger in the backyard. I watched from a vantage point at the top of the stairs as he tried to open the doors and windows, which were locked. I had seen enough Law and Order to know that a stranger shouldn't be in the yard trying to get in. Actually, I probably didn't need to watch any Law and Order to know that, but I took comfort in being a crime expert.

Then I did the most sensible thing that I could think of. I ran to my room and locked the door. But I had little faith in the lock. My own cat could open that door if he really worked at it. (A few days earlier I would have praised Rufus for his locksmith abilities and his determination to see me.) Now I just hoped that his intelligence would prove to be greater than that of a burglar.

For the next hour or so, I could hear people in my house. They were not my mom, my sister, or grandparents. They were not people that I would let in with a smile when the doorbell chimed. They were foreign, and the situation was, to me, even more foreign. They were making themselves at home with our personal possessions, sorting them, moving them, and taking them. I could hear the sounds of lifting and shifting, the grunts of the men and the sound of a box sliding across the floor.

In a few words, I wasn't enjoying myself. I had left my cell phone downstairs, and had no way to get help. I had only my own adaptability, a trait that I have always valued. I had no choice but to go with the flow, something that I tend to do in life. But never had the flow brought me into such deep waters as the robbery did. I wasn't sure that I would be able to swim, to hold my head above the crashing waves and make the right choices.

Eventually I heard them in my sister's room, adjacent to my own. I heard heavy footsteps across the creaking, carpet-covered floor. I watched as someone on the other side made the door handle jiggle. In that moment, I was more afraid for my life than I ever have been. But the door was locked and it stayed that was.

Needless to say, the robbers left with their loot and I was safe. The home invasion- a name that, to me, seems particularly appropriate- was shaking. My space and safety had been invaded. I felt vulnerable. I felt violated. I never expected to be the victim of a break-in. Like I said, I like shows about crime; the psychology fascinates me. But in my quiet suburban neighborhood, I never expected that I would be the victim.

For me, the word "victim" is tricky though. I certainly was a victim in the literal sense, but I was lucky enough to the take the situation for something different from what it would normally be taken in as. I knew that although I could have done a lot of things differently, I made the best choices that I could have because, in the end, I was safe. More than anything, the experience gave me more confidence about my ability to rely solely on my instincts. I had been tested, and I felt like I could handle what life throws at me.