Too cheesy? Too vague? Doesn't say enough about me?
"So where are you applying?"
"Oh, schools out east. I'm bored of Vancouver."
"Really? Huh."
I love my city. There's something about the tall buildings and the ocean and the mountains and the diversity that has always made me feel alive. It's an odd sensation, but I feel both connected and alone when I'm in my city - alone in the sense that I feel like I can finally breathe a little easier and just relax, and not worry about the scrutiny that surely every teenager feels at home and at school. I will never get tired of my city, and there is something about getting on that seabus to take me downtown that cracks open a seed of excitement in me. I think it's the feeling of What's going to happen today? What new thing am I going to be exposed to this time? I certainly believe that this city has helped shaped me, helped me open up to different experiences and develop myself as a person. To get bored of Vancouver is simply something incredible to me.
I've learned practical things from Vancouver - which bus to take to get where, the best Korean karaoke places, the cheapest sushi restaurants, and not to hang around the seabus station at night. But this city has also made me realize things that I was never aware of before. Last year I was part of a program called Peer2Peer. Our object was to walk the Downtown Eastside, to gather information on drugs and alcohol to give presentations to younger students. Accompanied by police officers, we were a group of clean-faced North Van kids in bright marshmallow winter jackets, nervously clutching onto cameras and notepads. We thought we knew everything about this place that has the reputation of being one of the 'cesspools' of North America. We toured old hotels deprived of their glory days, walked seedy alleyways, stepped gingerly around used needles; but what I soon felt was the sense of community that began to emerge from the people we talked to. I got the feeling that these people once could have been our friends and neighbours. One man, Styrofoam coffee cup in hand, was waiting outside a treatment centre for his best friend. "I've been sober five years today," he told us proudly, "And I can speak 5 languages. Bet you didn't expect that." Another lady bid us welcome to the "yellow brick road!". These people were friendly and eager to impart advice to us. This was their home, and they wanted to show us that it wasn't all what it has been portrayed it to be.
So would the idea of the Downtown Eastside being a tight knit community like this ever had occurred to me? Probably not, because I was only ever exposed to the idea of it being a lost cause. Maybe this is why I am so passionate about writing - there's so many different ways of telling a story, and so much more than meets the eye to a situation; so much we don't know about someone who may appear mean or sad or happy or any number of different things. This, too, is perhaps why I love Vancouver, why I love cities in general. It's the prospect of possibilities and opportunities and untold stories hidden among these buildings and the people walking the streets. And finally, I won't try to defend Vancouver's reputation as being an aloof, cold city - but maybe it's just full of people who like to observe and dream, like me.
I think you need to break up your sentences just a little bit. It needs to flow more easily. I believe I see some comma splices in there so maybe try to read through again and see where a semi colon needs to be placed. Besides a few syntax and grammatical errors, I don't think it's too cheesy at all! The way you broke up the paragraphs were perfect! You showed 3 different aspects in very good ways.
Well.... I think your essay needs more alignment with what your prompt expects. It should describe your identity well. In other words it should tell what it is that makes you. This one talks about the city you grew up, but that is not what they expect. Whatever you tell, it should revolve around yourself and tell them what is central to your identity.
