Scholarship essay, Challenges/factors in life that make you who you are

We are interested in learning more about you and the context in which you have grown up, formed your aspirations and accomplished your academic successes. Please describe the factors and challenges that have most shaped your personal life and aspirations. How have these factors caused you to grow? (800 word limit)

"Hehe He He Ha Ha Ho Ho... Ooohhh..." "Breathe in deeply..." "Use your head voice..." These were only some of the commands uttered in the classroom that became my sanctuary. The voice behind them, the woman who gave me my first love, was none other than Mrs. Ann Marie Dupre. A middle aged woman who dressed in outrageous print fabrics, loved opera, and wore way too much make up, Mrs. D, as we affectionately called her, made it her duty to make us understand the true beauty of music.

At seven years old, my mind couldn't fully comprehend the works of the great composers I was learning about, such as Mozart and Bach. Instead, I related to music on a much more personal level- in my own life. In class Mrs. Dupre would show us musicals to let us know that music could be enjoyable. I remember her showing us West Side Story. I watched attentively, and the melodies stuck in my head, begging to be sung. After the movie, Mrs. Dupre would play on the piano, and I'd be right by her side, singing along. It was then that I realized music could be a way to express how I truly felt. Music became my medium, a way to voice my opinion when no one was listening. When I was happy, sad, angry, or even confused, I looked to music as an escape.

Music changed my life at the age of thirteen. I was ushering in my church when it was announced that Victory Voices In Praise would be performing. Thinking it was just another choir, I turned towards the couple who were waiting to be seated. As the track started playing for "Blessings of Abraham", I heard clapping behind me. I quickly seated the couple and spun around to witness what was going on. The choir was unlike any I had ever seen before. They were smiling and getting into the music. It was as if they truly believed in what they were saying. They had a passion for singing. I knew, at that moment, that I wanted to be in that choir. My only obstacle was getting in. As luck would have it, later that day, a member of the choir asked me if I'd like to join. I could barely contain my excitement as I nodded my head vigorously. The next week I attended my first rehearsal. I felt as if I finally found a place where I belonged. Everyone smiled and welcomed me. I was familiar with most of the songs, so learning my part was a breeze.

My defining moment in the choir came on December 20, 2008. On that day I sang my first solo. The week before, the choir director called to ask if I'd like to sing the lead for a song we had previously practiced. With a shaky voice, and trembling hands, I accepted. When I got off the phone, I screamed so loud that my aunt came running from her apartment downstairs.

I have been a member of Victory Voices In Praise for over two years, and it just keeps getting better. The choir is like my second home. It has given me a place where I feel as though I belong. I rarely miss a practice, and I love traveling to different cities and states to sing with them. Being in the choir has helped me to realize that music is my passion. I cannot live without it in some shape or form-humming a tune, listening to a song, or saying a few lyrics to myself. Music makes me, me.

I know its not the best, but its a really rough first draft. All comments (on grammar, content, etc.) are welcome and appreciated. thanks! :)

Your story is charming, especially at the beginning. But, notice, "factors and challenges" are plural, and you've essentially told us about only one thing. Shorten the Voices in Praise section in order to make room for other material.

I did a lot of thinking and editing- and here's what I came up with:

My name means 'warlike', yet it's an understatement to the battle I call life. I was born to two immigrant parents, both of whom had never completed college, and were barely surviving. All the statistics pointed to the same life for me. Nevertheless, my parents vowed that my life would be better than theirs.

For as long as I can remember, I have always been strong-minded. This was never truer than when I was in the second grade. I had to attend public school for the first time due to a lack of funds. On the first day of school, I was seated next to a girl who would later become my archrival. Trouble began almost immediately. Her name was Harsha, so she was always confused with me. Our teacher jokingly promised us fifty cents for each time she got us confused. We competed academically so one of us could outshine the other.

I was seven years old, sitting at my desk, completing a spelling test. The word was "received". I agonized over the decision as to whether "e" should go before "I". That one word meant the difference between a 90 and a 100. As I debated inwardly, Harsha raised her hand to proclaim that she was finished. Not to be outdone, I quickly gave in my paper. Later that day we got the much anticipated results. She had gotten a 100, and I, a 90. Looking back now, I realize that the competition between Harsha and I prepared me for the world outside of elementary school. Our competition gave me a streak of determination that shines through in everything I do.

Outside of school, my passion is my church's choir. When I was fourteen, I went through a period of depression and loneliness. I felt as if I couldn't find my niche. I was ushering in my church when it was announced that Victory Voices In Praise would be performing. Thinking it was just another choir, I turned towards the couple who were waiting to be seated. As the track started playing for "Blessings of Abraham", I heard clapping, and feet stomping behind me. I quickly seated the couple and spun around to witness what was going on. The choir was unlike any I had ever seen before. They were smiling and getting into the music. It was as if they truly believed in what they were saying. They had a passion for singing. I knew, at that moment, that I wanted to be in that choir. As luck would have it, later that day, a member of the choir asked me if I'd like to join. I could barely contain my excitement as I nodded my head vigorously. The next week I attended my first rehearsal. I felt as if I finally found a place where I belonged. Everyone smiled and was very warm towards me. I was familiar with most of the songs, so learning my part was a breeze.

After finding a second home in the choir, I felt compelled to help others who were feeling hurt, depressed, and lonesome. I began with those who were closest to me- my friends. I was fifteen years old, a budding psychiatrist, playing with my brother in the park when I spotted Samantha. Her head hung like the droopy ears of a sad puppy- a far cry from her usually cheerful disposition. A black hooded sweatshirt covered her pale skin and attempted to mask her true feelings from the world. It only took one look for me to realize that something was terribly wrong.

As I approached her, she tried to smile, but it came out looking more like a grimace. I immediately ran to her side, and spoke to her for over two hours. I learned that she was in more pain than anyone could have ever imagined. On the surface, Samantha seemed to have it all- she was pretty, an honor roll student, black belt in karate, church attendee-but deep down she was hurting. Her family had just moved from Puerto Rico, and was facing financial troubles. Being the oldest daughter, she wasn't allowed to voice her opinions, so she kept her pain inside, and etched it on her arms. I couldn't stand to see her react that way. I spoke about school, vacations, and the future- anything I could to get her mind off her troubles. I told her she needed an alternate escape. Fortunately, she listened, and began to express herself through writing on an internet blog. Now she is back to being her energetic self. My life may not have been easy, but I am glad that my parents pushed me to defy the expectations of statistics. I am more than a number.

All comments are welcome and appreciated!

Wow. That's a dense essay. You got tired by the end, eh? And just stopped. You need a much stronger conclusion to pull the whole thing together. You also need to break the first paragraph into two or more paragraphs and to edit the whole thing for concision. But this is an excellent first draft!