/ Which essay should I use as my Common App essay?
I have 2 essays written for colleges since some colleges want a second essay. I had initially intended to use Essay #1 as my Common App essay, but after writing the second essay, I'm not sure which one conveys more about me. (Both are just topic of your choice). Could you guys give me some feedback on the essays and also let me know which essay you think would be better as the Common App essay? Thanks!Essay #1
(I don't think my conclusion is that great, what would be a better way to conclude it? Also, I need to cut down about 100 words): 613 words
Every Saturday morning, as I sat on the floor watching episodes of Batman and Sailor Moon, commercial breaks would interrupt the precious time I had with my animated heroes. I would be horrified and overwhelmed as I met emaciated children with protruding bellies silently pleading for just ten cents a day or a monthly donation the price of a cup of coffee and a bagel. As my mother delivered warm oatmeal, fruit, and juice to her only child, I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt as I asked myself why those children had to suffer so greatly, while I had so much. I began to make promises every Saturday to the children of Timor-Leste, Cambodia, Uganda, and Angola, who urgently needed food, textbooks, vaccinations, and homes, that I would not sit by and watch them suffer.
Since enrolling in -- School in the seventh grade, I have spent my time helping others by participating in certain activities, such as mentoring and tutoring younger students, and volunteering at various hospitals. However, I was not able to find the path to fulfill my promises to the impoverished children in the commercials until the summer before ninth grade. I participated in a program called Health Corps at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center, where I was stationed in various parts of the hospital on different days. During a shift in the post-anesthesia care unit, I was able to care for a young boy, not medically but psychologically. He had a fear-stricken expression as he waited to be taken into surgery. I went up to him and sat down beside his bed. Starting a friendly conservation, I asked him what his name was, how old he was, and what he liked to do. As he slowly opened up to me, he confessed that he was afraid of being put to sleep and never waking up again. I reassured him that he would come out of surgery and wake up better than he ever was. He asked me how I was so sure this would happen, and I responded with a slight smile that his guardian angel was watching over him and would not allow anything bad to happen to him. He asked, "Promise?" and I told him, "Promise." As he was rolled into the surgery room, he gave me a shy smile and lay back into his bed prepared for anything because his guardian angel was watching over him. Although I was not able to provide the young boy medical care, I was able to provide him with something just as important, peace of mind.
While participating in the program, I witnessed the pain and suffering of many patients, much like the children in the commercials: prematurely born babies, hooked up to a series of tubes, whimpering barely audible cries, severely injured automobile accident victims laying in their beds with faces scrunched up in agony, burn victims, wrapped in bandages, laying in their beds as their skin healed tightly over their bodies. It was in the rooms and hallways of this world-class hospital that my dream to become a doctor began. Through my interactions with patients, such as the young boy, and my witnessing of patients' anguish, I realized that I could use the medical training to help alleviate the pain and improve the conditions of children like those in the commercials. I do not intend to work in highly developed institutions like Beth Israel Hospital, but rather, in underdeveloped countries to provide crucial and previously inaccessible health care. Helping that little boy was just the beginning of fulfilling my promise to make a difference in the lives of the children in the commercials and others like them.
(I need to cute down about 30 words): 533 words
As I stepped onto the cold tiled floor, a strong waft of chlorine stung my nose and made my eyes water. When the tears finally dissipated and the sight of the undulating blue-pool-water met my eyes, my shoulders slumped as I sighed with the thought, "Here we go again," in my head. Diving into the freezing water, I was reminded of all the yards covered in the past few days, as my already sore and achy muscles clamped up. With every stroke, my energy level was cut in half. With every kick, my body started shutting down. With every breath, I felt like I was drowning. And that was just the warm-up. I only knew this feeling of despair in the pool, since, as a student, I had always felt in control and ahead of my peers: I was organized, hard-working, and dependable, so this feeling was something completely new.
After finishing my seventh, out of ten, fifty-yard-sprints on a minute, I felt like giving up. My arm muscles refused to comply with my brain as I tried to adjust my leaky goggles, and those ten to fifteen second rests between each sprint were not enough to allow me to catch my breath before beginning the next one. Planning to sit out for the rest of the set, I lifted myself out of the pool, almost falling over as my arms gave out, when I saw a young girl about half my size struggling behind everyone else. Out of all the possible strokes she could do, she was doing the most difficult and energy consuming stroke, the dreaded butterfly! Although she was almost half a length behind the person in front of her, and was making the sprints with barely two to three seconds to spare, she continued pounding the butterfly with all her might. As I watched this little girl with twig arms swimming the most tiring stroke and keeping up with it for eight laps and still counting, a metamorphosis occurred within me. I got up and slid into the pool again, determined to finish the set and the rest of the workout.
This girl, the size of a Lilliputian, was the catalyst that triggered the change within me; I had never seen someone so small and seemingly fragile work so hard to finish the workout, which seemed like a giant's task to me.
(A bit awkward/weak?) This change did not just influence me in the pool, but affected many other places in my life, such as my academics.
(I think I should write about why, but I'm not sure what I could say). I would rerun the gel electrophoresis just to make sure that my initial data was correct, reread and revise my thesis on Austen's view on marriage and love, and dissect the grammatical structure of the Latin language. This encounter not only brought the change in me that helped me improve in swimming and revolutionized my mindset about learning, but it taught me a life lesson: never be complacent. I will always push myself to my limits in everything that I do, whether it is school work or small things such as finishing a fifty-yard-sprint in practice, because just as the metamorphosis from a caterpillar to a butterfly is irreversible, so is the change in me.