buttermybacon
Oct 10, 2013
Undergraduate / My red sixth place ribbon ; Common App Essay About Failure [3]
Recount an incident or time when you experienced failure. How did it affect you, and what lessons did you learn?
A red sixth place ribbon hangs on my bulletin board of various accolades. Every day, as I walk past the wall in the hallway, the award mockingly congratulates me as I smile. Close friends and family wonder why I would feature such a failure for the world to see. But I never dare wipe away the memory of my sixth place hurdles sprint. I need that constant reminder of my imperfection. I need that sixth place.
In middle school, I joined my school's no-cut track team. One week before our first track meet, my coach unexpectedly assigned me to run the 200 meter hurdles. After a quick crash course on sprinting and hurdling along with several practice sprints, I mounted the starting blocks, took my mark, and sprinted as fast as my legs allowed me. I approach the first hurdle, and the worst thing that can ever happen in a hurdles sprint follows: I trip and stumble over the hurdle. I completed the race with whatever energy I had left in me. I had finished my race in last place.
The red for the first loser went to me.
After the awards ceremony, as I walked back to my school's team, carrying the sixth place red, I could not help but smile. I could smile because in spite of the loss, life continued; the next event began. I grasped the notion that I could accept this failure. That I should not take everything in life so seriously. Instead, why should I not just laugh at my clumsy self. I, certainly, wasn't the best track star, but that did not mean I could not enjoy track.
My red sixth place ribbon hangs there on my bulletin board for the world to see. Rather than shame, I take pride in it. By embracing my imperfections, I become a more confident, resilient person.
Recount an incident or time when you experienced failure. How did it affect you, and what lessons did you learn?
A red sixth place ribbon hangs on my bulletin board of various accolades. Every day, as I walk past the wall in the hallway, the award mockingly congratulates me as I smile. Close friends and family wonder why I would feature such a failure for the world to see. But I never dare wipe away the memory of my sixth place hurdles sprint. I need that constant reminder of my imperfection. I need that sixth place.
In middle school, I joined my school's no-cut track team. One week before our first track meet, my coach unexpectedly assigned me to run the 200 meter hurdles. After a quick crash course on sprinting and hurdling along with several practice sprints, I mounted the starting blocks, took my mark, and sprinted as fast as my legs allowed me. I approach the first hurdle, and the worst thing that can ever happen in a hurdles sprint follows: I trip and stumble over the hurdle. I completed the race with whatever energy I had left in me. I had finished my race in last place.
The red for the first loser went to me.
After the awards ceremony, as I walked back to my school's team, carrying the sixth place red, I could not help but smile. I could smile because in spite of the loss, life continued; the next event began. I grasped the notion that I could accept this failure. That I should not take everything in life so seriously. Instead, why should I not just laugh at my clumsy self. I, certainly, wasn't the best track star, but that did not mean I could not enjoy track.
My red sixth place ribbon hangs there on my bulletin board for the world to see. Rather than shame, I take pride in it. By embracing my imperfections, I become a more confident, resilient person.
