I'm not sure how I feel about this essay, I don't think I like it as a whole but I see some parts as salvageable. What do you think?
The prompt is:
What don't you know?
I don't know what I'm capable of. Without meaning to, I have placed limits on myself that hinder my potential. Limits such as, "I'm bad at Math", or "I'll never be a good runner", or even "I won't be able to get into that school". But moving right before my senior year made me stop and re-assess these restrictions. When I found out I was moving I had set the limit: "senior year will be awful", but to my surprise senior year is not awful and I am successfully adapting to a brand new environment. I had proven this limit wrong, was it possible to do the same with others?
I cannot remember looking forward to a single math class. My frustration with the seemingly impossible subject never stopped growing. I had always attributed my troubles with math to what seemed to be a lack of natural talent, but if I disregarded my previous limit another inhibiting factor became apparent. Out of all my math teachers, only one had helped and encouraged me. I realized that the only limit on my mathematical abilities had been an environmental one. I don't know how successful in math I could be, but now that I see my potential I intend to find out.
Running was also something I believed myself to have no aptitude in. All throughout school, I dreaded P.E. because we would have to run a mile every quarter. But looking back, I realize my disdain for running could have been prevented. The only time I ran was on "mile day" and I expected myself to achieve a mile time of eight minutes or less. My high expectations led to disappointment, and I declared myself a bad runner. Now that I know more about how exercise works, it is obvious that my lack of preparation was responsible for my poor running, not my lack of skill. I don't know what it feels like to run a mile in less than eight minutes, but maybe after some training I will.
When I started envisioning myself at college, Brown was not in the picture. I imagined myself at a good school, but not one of the best schools in the country. My flaws were too great and my accomplishments too minor to apply to such a prestigious school. This was potentially the most dangerous limit I ever placed on myself. My education and, consequently, my future would have been affected. Luckily, this limit, along with all my other limits, has been eradicated. My education will continue at the school that is right for me, and that school is one of the best in the nation. Without my limits I feel more confident in my abilities as a student, an athlete, and an applicant. I don't know what I am capable of without limits, but I am excited to find out.
The prompt is:
What don't you know?
I don't know what I'm capable of. Without meaning to, I have placed limits on myself that hinder my potential. Limits such as, "I'm bad at Math", or "I'll never be a good runner", or even "I won't be able to get into that school". But moving right before my senior year made me stop and re-assess these restrictions. When I found out I was moving I had set the limit: "senior year will be awful", but to my surprise senior year is not awful and I am successfully adapting to a brand new environment. I had proven this limit wrong, was it possible to do the same with others?
I cannot remember looking forward to a single math class. My frustration with the seemingly impossible subject never stopped growing. I had always attributed my troubles with math to what seemed to be a lack of natural talent, but if I disregarded my previous limit another inhibiting factor became apparent. Out of all my math teachers, only one had helped and encouraged me. I realized that the only limit on my mathematical abilities had been an environmental one. I don't know how successful in math I could be, but now that I see my potential I intend to find out.
Running was also something I believed myself to have no aptitude in. All throughout school, I dreaded P.E. because we would have to run a mile every quarter. But looking back, I realize my disdain for running could have been prevented. The only time I ran was on "mile day" and I expected myself to achieve a mile time of eight minutes or less. My high expectations led to disappointment, and I declared myself a bad runner. Now that I know more about how exercise works, it is obvious that my lack of preparation was responsible for my poor running, not my lack of skill. I don't know what it feels like to run a mile in less than eight minutes, but maybe after some training I will.
When I started envisioning myself at college, Brown was not in the picture. I imagined myself at a good school, but not one of the best schools in the country. My flaws were too great and my accomplishments too minor to apply to such a prestigious school. This was potentially the most dangerous limit I ever placed on myself. My education and, consequently, my future would have been affected. Luckily, this limit, along with all my other limits, has been eradicated. My education will continue at the school that is right for me, and that school is one of the best in the nation. Without my limits I feel more confident in my abilities as a student, an athlete, and an applicant. I don't know what I am capable of without limits, but I am excited to find out.