Posts by Danamal

Danamal

Sep 9, 2012

Undergraduate / Com.App. Essay- weak ending for a such a topic? experience impact prompt [3]

The experience I faced while employed at a small town Dunkin' Donuts is still fresh in my memory;[ this could be because of the recency of said event, yet it's too soon to say if Victor's story will be fresh in my memory for a lengthier portion of my lifeI'm not sure if this sentence is necessary] . It's (In a college essay it is better to not use contractions: It's --> It is ) to be observed that people are quick to pass judgement, especially on criminals. One can only speculate how those peoples' opinions would change if faced with the fact that the murderer they read about in the news was their friend. For me, the hardworking coworker I learned from blew open my perspective on people I know nothing about.I knew nothing about? Didn't you know him? I would edit that sentence a little

It happened relatively quickly. I was hired in April, and Victor was one of the mentors who taught me the procedures for using the 3-compartment sink and stocking coffee cups for the morning rush. He was always polite and welcoming, giving a warm greeting whenever I came into work. I was sixteen at the time, and perhaps because he was closest in age to me at eighteen, I grew closer to him than to the other workers there.

When I came back from a two month hiatus, I asked another co-worker of Victor's whereabouts once I viewed the sinks and fondly remembered him. Apparently he had quit; and two weeks after, he and a nineteen year old, carjacked and murdered a man in Detroit. To say the least, I was shocked. He had even told me specifically the reason he moved away from Detroit: to stay out of trouble. When I found out that he and a soon to graduate nursing student had been charged of supplementary crimes that could get them life behind bars, the pieces would not add up in my head.

Perhaps in an alternate world, Victor would not have quit his job with me, only to get tangled up in the homicide of a boy's father. The world that presented itself to me bare and without secrets is this one; a world where an unfortunate thing happened to someone who expressed good intentions, and where the life of an innocent man ended. Naturally, I imagine the sorrow on every criminal's family's face as they come to realize that the child they raised would be locked away forever. When I think about the circumstances that my associate will have to face the rest of his life, I can not help but think that there are other people like him.

I believe that everyone has aspirations, and I certainly affirm now more than ever that bad things happen to good people. It us a realization that forces me to outreach morally to those whom others condemn. I don't accept that it's in me to brush off a crook's judgement and murmur, "He got what he deserved." Those people can mean a lot to someone else.

I really liked your essay. I can't imagine going through that. I would just go through your essay one more time to clear up tenses and sentences

Danamal

Sep 9, 2012

Undergraduate / 'Bangor airport and handshakes' - College Admission Essay [2]

I was sitting by myself in the Bangor airport contemplating experiences that would be fitting for a college essay, when an older man interrupted my isolation. As soon as he started to approach me, I immediately tried to look invested at the book in my lap. As a native New Yorker, I consider strangers talking to me a threat. However, he soon introduced himself, asked a few questions, and was curious about the marine biology camp I just attended. After these introductions, the man said how he attended college in Maine and never left. I learned about his wife and how he misses his children who moved far away. After speaking for an extraordinarily long time with no chance of disappearing, he asked if I wanted to stand on a receiving line to greet two hundred and fifty soldiers coming home from Afghanistan. Reluctantly, seeing no way to remove myself from this situation, I put my book back in my backpack and followed the man.

Hand after hand came for me to shake. With the first fifty hands that I shook I was trying to think of what I could say to these soldiers who put their lives at risk for our country. Every smile I gave and every word I spoke I analyzed in my head, regretting each interaction. I have had no previous experience speaking with people who have just gone through such tribulations, and simply seeing them smiling and laughing amongst themselves shocked me.

With the next one hundred hands, I noticed the calluses and wondered what those hands had touched. I looked at my own hands with their bright green, peeling nail polish, and fading calluses from childhood when I loved swinging on the monkey bars. Since then, my hands have touched numerous drumsticks for music competitions and performances. They have typed essays about politics, history, and about literature that I have read. They have splatter painted my bedroom walls against my parents' better wishes. They, hopefully one day, will create advertisements for companies and experience different cultures around the world. Like the soldiers' hands with whom I came in contact, my hands have many more scars to acquire and many more life experiences to witness.

Throughout the two hundred and fifty handshakes the discomfort I initially felt seemed to vanish. I became more aware of the ordeals people face and the importance of a simple touch. This short fifteen-minute encounter made me realize how attempting to overlook people and trying to hide from new experiences was prohibiting myself from living fully. The elderly man was unaware that by asking me to participate he had a direct impact on my life.

When I departed form the receiving line and as I was preparing to go through security, the older man walked up and thanked me for participating in the event. He told me how much it meant and how glad he was that some young people are still considerate. He thanked me again and shook my hand.