Undergraduate / Ice cream essay too childish? Common App 150 Words on Work Experience. [9]

I thought that scooping ice cream would be easy. My first week of work proved otherwise. I tipped the mop bucket over, and spilled gallons of soapy water on the floor. I was embarrassed, but I didn't panic. To dry the floor, I skated around the shop floor with towels under my feet. The waiting customers were so amused by my mistake that they left me an extra large tip. My enthusiasm and jokes kept customers smiling, even if they received a special "leaning tower of ice cream" cone. I ended that summer with a strong scooping arm, worn out sneakers, and knowing that when life got slippery, I would dance.

It can be 150 words and I have about 110. room for improvement?

Undergraduate / "act to prevent tragedies it in the future" - Princeton Essay [6]

PRINCETON: Using a quote tell about an event or experience that helped you define one of your values or changed how you approach the world

In Gandhi An Autobiography: The Story of My Experiments with Truth, Gandhi writes "Be the change you want to see in the world." If there was one thing I could change about my community it would be to stop reckless driving.

Romulus, New York. A place where people take their goats on walks and chickens cross the roads daily. A place where caution signs warn not against bridges ahead, but against Amish buggies. A place where exercise is difficult as every time you try to walk somewhere, a kind neighbor pulls over to offer you a ride. This epitome of country living, my home, is also known for something else, however. All too often, Romulus, NY is a place where teenagers drive carelessly, speeding on the back roads, texting, and blaring the radio.

In my high school of less than 120 people, car accidents are common. A senior died two years ago from driving drunk and the superintendent's son died a month later from speeding. Dangerous driving has affected my own life as well. I have been on dates where "Let's see what this baby can do" is practically a pick up line and zooming off in an Audi is meant to impress. On the way back from a National Honor Society banquet, I was riding home with a member, who decided to go ninety miles an hour. Despite my screaming for him to stop, he started laughing and swerving over the double yellow line. At school the next day he joked, "What's more fun than speeding?" and conversations about the incident turned to sexual innuendo rather than his inexcusable behavior. With a combination of my own experience, the fatalities around me and my parent's counsel, I felt motivated to do something.

I started a safe teen driving movement in Seneca County to stop teens from driving dangerously. My next door neighbor, who owns a towing company, donated a smashed truck from a drunk driving accident. The month of August became "Don't Drive Dumb" month as the truck traveled to schools in the county and was displayed for a week. By the truck was a sign that said "Don't Drive Dumb." My hope was that by having the direct product of reckless driving on display, the message that driving is not a game would reach teens. When the truck returned to Romulus High for the first week of school, local news in Rochester was there to witness the event. I also created a website, dontdrivedumb.info, which in conjunction with widespread media coverage will hopefully spark activism in other teenagers to create similar projects in their hometowns.

Too often, flowers and teddy bears surround our telephone poles as memorials to a family's loss. The public's initial reaction, when seeing something like this is usually "Aw" and "What a terrible tragedy." While this response is natural, I encourage people to think not only of the sadness, but how to act to prevent it in the future.

Undergraduate / "Homeless for a night" Stanford Essay, an experience intellectually stimulates you [11]

I dragged the refrigerator box thought thy dry, dirt patched grass, looking for a place to sleep for the night. Makeshifts cardboard structures popped up everywhere as teens constructed their homes for the night. It was Night in a Box, an event to increase awareness for homelessness and raise money for the ...

This is my first draft. please tear it to shreds. i need a concluding sentence & lots of advice!!
My character limit is 1500 im at 1700. what can i cut?

after edits:
I stood in the dinner line, my shivering hands gripping a plastic spoon and bowl in he left, and a flimsy cup of water in the right. A single ladle of condensed chicken noodle soup poured into my bowl and I took broke a white roll from the bag stamped with 99 cents in red letters. Sitting on the frozen bleachers I wolfed down the food, but no seconds were allowed, so I headed back to camp. The fairground was desolate, lonely, and cold, inhabited only by makeshift cardboard structures and teenagers huddled together in groups. I dragged my refrigerator box through the dirt-patched grass, looking for a place to sleep. The nippy October air whipped past my ears as I knelt down on the dirty ground, ripping duck tape pieces to hold my house together. When things were suitable, I unrolled my sleeping back into the brown cave and climbed in. My long legs didn't fit in the structure and as the cardboard door flaps hit my feet as I slept.

This night was lucky not a common event for me. It was a benefit called "Night in a Box" to raise money for the homeless by spending a night out in conditions similar to their own. When I woke up the next morning with a stiff back and a head cold I was greeted by steaming pancakes and hot chocolate. The United Way counselors who ran the program wanted to reward us for sticking it out all night. I then began to realize how lucky I was. I was only homeless for a night; some people are homeless their entire lives. People in poverty do not receive lavish breakfasts to make up for sparse dinners. In the warm four walls of my home, people's real suffering feels so far away. It took a night sleeping in a box for me to begin thinking outside of it.

Undergraduate / "Happiest when I'm walking down my road barefoot" Letter to Roomie--Stanford [3]

All feedback appreciated. I'm submitting this tmrw! Please help :)

Dear Future Roomie,
Hi. How are you? I'm Emily McDonald. I'm sixteen years old with a birthday on Christmas, so you'll always remember it. I'm from Romulus, NY, a really small town you've probably never heard of. It's ok, no one has. It's the kind of place where flannel and cut off t-shirts are vogue and kids go to Demolition Derbys for fun. Romulus is home to many happy memories, but needless to say, I'm extremely happy to be going to college.

As for getting to know me better, I was born a Brooklyn girl, but I've lived in three different states and changed schools seven times. I skipped second grade, repeated third, and was homeschooled for three years at one point.

I come from a big family, with over thirty cousins on my Dad's side. My parents are divorced, by the way, and I live with my dad and step-mom. I have three lovely siblings too who are all older than me. I don't live with them though, so a piece of my heart resides in California, Texas, and India.

I'm a very low key person and it doesn't take much to please me. I'm happiest when I'm walking down my road barefoot in a flowy summer dress; my golden retriever's leash in my right hand and a good book in the left.

Sports are a big deal to me and at 5' 10'' I'm very competitive I've played soccer, volleyball, cheerleading, track, softball, and as of next month, bowling. I love to win, but I also appreciate the camaraderie of being part of a team. I hope to run Track and Field as well as join the Competitive Cheerleading squad at Stanford.

My friends are what keep me going. My three soul sisters, Emily, Hannah, and Priscilla have been by my side since eighth grade. Through laughter, tears, heartache, and triumph, they are my support system. I hope to be sharing late night phone calls and email updates with you too very soon. Can't wait to meet you dearest! xoxo Emily

Undergraduate / "I've outgrown my small town life" WHY STANFORD IS A GOOD FIT FOR ME [2]

Offer me intricate helpful advice & Then leave a link to your essay. I'll do the same

I have outgrown my small town life. At Romulus Central School, almost all of the students are white, come from a family of farmers, and will attend community college. I want a different future. I want to join a larger and more diverse community that will stimulate and support me and open the door to a wider world. I believe I will find that community at Stanford University.

The opportunity to participate in outdoor athletics on the sunny, suburban campus of Stanford would be an exciting, new experience for me. Romulus Central School did not have enough money for a track or for a sufficient number of hurdles. Consequently, I leapt and sprinted my way around the school parking lot with half of the hurdles required for my track events. Despite the shortcomings of the school facilities and severe spinal scoliosis, I was able to set new school records and win awards at the regional and state track meets in these events.

I look forward to joining the Mock Trial Team at Stanford University because I believe the advocacy skills that I develop there could help me in my future career. I enjoyed acting in school plays at my high school, and I would have joined a debate team if they had one.

Adjusting to the Stanford environment will be a challenge because my peers are all gifted and multi-talented. I want to make a significant contribution to the campus, as I have in high school. At present, I have one of the highest grade point averages in my class, I was inducted into the National Honor Society, and I am a semifinalist in the National Achievement Scholarship Competition. I want to be pushed, test my limits, and then surpass them.

Undergraduate / Preppy girl goes bowler? Amherst Essay [7]

this was the prompt "Difficulty nee not foreshadow despair or defeat. Rather achievement can be all the more satisying because of obstacles surmounted." im supposed to write a personal response

I am known as the cheerleader: pom poms, mini skirts, makeup, the whole nine. For my senior year, I decided to mix things up. I decided to embark into the world of clunky shoes and cheese fries. I joined the bowling team.

My decision was met with adversity. The cheerleaders were upset at me leaving and the bowlers were upset at me joining. I barely knew the names of the bowlers, but they already decided a cheerleader had no place on their team and lacked confidence in my abilities. The first day of practice, all eyes were on me. Approaching the lane with steady breath I swung my arm, and released. A confident ball slid down the greased path and crashed into ten adversaries. A strike. Emily McDonald got a strike.

After the first ball, getting strikes wasn't so easy. I listened to the coach though and watched the seasoned player's techniques. Within three weeks I was hitting scores comparable to the four year captain, securing my spot on the team. Slowly, I gained respect and a nickname, Weazel. Now when I approach the lane, my teammates hoot "It's Weazel time!" and get me psyched up to bowl. I'm probably the only girl at the bowling alley with curled hair and manicured nails, but that does not disturb my game. I know I'm good and when the size eleven, bright green ball is in my hands, Weazel attacks.

I am now the high scorer on the team. I never would have wanted to excel at bowling so much, had it not been for adversity. Gutter balls fueled determination and disbelief fostered passion. I stepped out of my comfort zone and tried something I knew nothing about with people I knew nothing about. Difficulty made only my success sweeter.

Undergraduate / There's no place like homelessness--Yale Supplement [29]

I stood in the dinner line, my shivering hands gripping a plastic bowl and a cup of water. A single ladle of condensed chicken noodle soup poured into my bowl; I took a white roll from the bag stamped "99" cents in red type. Sitting on the frozen bleachers, I wolfed down the food, but no seconds were allowed, so I headed back to camp. The fairground was desolate, lonely, and cold, inhabited only by makeshift cardboard structures and teenagers huddled together in groups. I dragged my refrigerator box through the dirt-patched grass, looking for a place to sleep. The fierce October air whipped past my ears as I knelt on the dirty ground, ripping duct tape pieces to hold my house together. I then unrolled my sleeping bag into the cardboard cave and climbed in, but sleep did not come easily. Thoughts of "What have I gotten myself into?" infested my mind and brought no rest.

Luckily, the events of this night were not a common occurrence for me. It was a benefit called "Night in a Box" to raise money for the homeless by spending a night outside. When I woke up the next morning with a stiff back and a head cold, I was greeted with steaming pancakes. The United Way counselors who ran the program wanted to reward us for sticking it out all night. I began to realize how lucky I was. I was only homeless for a night, when others are homeless their entire lives. For people in poverty, there are no lavish breakfasts to make up for sparse dinners. In the warm four walls of my home, real suffering feels so far away. This experience instilled in me distaste for meaningless accumulation of personal possessions. I gave away half of my belongings.

I now consider myself a minimalist. Every time I buy something new, I give away something in return. I fully believe in the sentiment that you can't take it with you. I'm always looking for superfluous items that I can remove from my room and decrease clutter in my life.

I take pride in recycling clothes and knowing that I'm doing my part to reduce waste on this earth. But at first it was a challenge to let go of my belongings. I liked my stuff. It was nice. It was mine. A teddy bear that sat in my closet for years, suddenly became exceedingly important to me when it was time to give it away. Over time, it became easier to let go of needless possessions and I cam to enjoy giving my belongings away. My glimpse into the lives of others completely changed my perspective for the better. It took a night sleeping in a box for me to begin thinking outside of it.