Chame-Lion
The thing about chameleons is that they aren't leaders.
They just aren't. No one sees a calm-as-can-be, color-shifting, bulgy-eyed lizard as being the chief of the jungle. I mean, just look, it's called Lion King, not Chameleon King. I guess what I'm trying to get across is that these peculiar reptiles just do not exactly fit the "king-of-the-jungle" job description. The problem at hand, though, is that I, sincerely, am a chameleon.
I was never too much of a fan of standing out; I much preferred blending into my surroundings. For instance, in my second grade Charlotte's Web play, I volunteered to be a tiny rock instead of Wilbur the piglet or Charlotte the spider. This should say a lot. But at the same time, I knew remaining eternally invisible was not going to be an option. I couldn't stay hidden forever; sooner or later, I would have to step out of my comfort camouflage.
As a result, I decided to commit a chameleon taboo. I wanted to change shades for once into someone who could stand out, someone who people could look up to. Instead of weaving deeper into my surroundings, I decided to slowly come undone. Sophomore year of high school, I ran to become an officer for one of the largest clubs at my school: Habitat for Humanity.
I knew this risk was going to be a quite the leap for me. Not only was I choosing to dive into danger by exposing myself, but I was also shifting into a color I had never had on before.
When I ventured up to give my pre-election speech, anxious, feet-shifting, and sweaty-palmed, I felt all eyes on me. I had really done it this time. There was no turning back, no being able to subtly seep into the background anymore. Therefore, I gave my speech.
I gave them the chameleon me.
I am glad to disclose that I have been co-president of the club for two years and going ever since. However, please do not get me wrong. I still am and always will be a chameleon at heart. At times, I still do need my tree bark brown and leaf green hue to cover me up, just to maintain my sanity. It is just that I am no longer the same chameleon as I was before: now, my color closet has expanded to more courageous and confident shades. Thanks to this new position and responsibility I have on my shoulders, I am no longer reluctant to stand out and sport my new coats. Turns out, chameleons can fill king-of-the-jungle shoes after all.
Now, about that new movie contract...
Hopefully the little "joke" at the end makes sense... Constructive criticism and suggestions only please! Much much thanks.
This is a really good essay as it showcases your personality very well. A few suggestions though: "At times, I still do need my tree bark brown and leaf green hue to cover me up, just to maintain my sanity" I think you should remove this because even though I understand what you are talking about I don't think an admissions officer will appreciate it
I also didn't get the joke :| and one last thing the title (chamelion) made me expect to read something where you clearly state how you have become a leader (lion) but are still a chameleon, hence chamelion.
Hope I helped and can you please look over my Princeton supplement?
Yeah I was thinking about taking that part out as well! As for the joke, I guess it was just one of those things that made sense in my head but not outloud haha.
And thanks! I'll definitely incorporate the chamelion part at the end better somehow. Thank you so much for your suggestions!! They were extremely helpful.
Anyone else?
Tweaked Version:
Chame-Lion
The thing about chameleons is that they aren't leaders.
They just aren't. No one sees a calm-as-can-be, color-shifting, bulgy-eyed lizard as being the chief of the jungle. I mean, just look, it's called Lion King, not Chameleon King. I guess what I'm trying to get across is that these peculiar reptiles don't exactly fit the "king-of-the-jungle" job description. Powdering on tree-bark brown and leaf-green shadows, chameleons disguise their individual talents that could potentially instill confidence in others. The problem at hand, though, is that I, sincerely, am a chameleon.
I was never too much of a fan of standing out; I much preferred blending into my surroundings. For instance, in my second grade Charlotte's Web play, I volunteered to be a tiny rock instead of Wilbur the piglet or Charlotte the spider. This should say a lot. But at the same time, I knew remaining eternally invisible was not going to be an option. I couldn't stay a rock forever; sooner or later, I would have to step out of my comfort camouflage.
As a result, I decided to commit a chameleon taboo. I wanted to change shades for once into someone who could stand out, someone who people could look up to. Instead of weaving deeper into my surroundings, I decided to slowly unveil shades I had never before displayed. Sophomore year of high school, I ran to become an officer for one of the largest clubs at my school: Habitat for Humanity.
I knew this risk was going to be a quite the leap for me. Not only was I choosing to dive into danger by exposing myself, but I was also evolving into a foreign color I had never attempted before.
When I ventured up to give my pre-election speech-- anxious, feet-shifting, and sweaty-palmed-- I felt all eyes on me. I had really done it this time. There was no turning back, no being able to subtly seep into the background anymore. Therefore, I gave my speech.
I revealed the uncloaked chameleon me.
I am glad to disclose that I have been co-president of the club for two years. Thanks to this new position and responsibility I have on my shoulders, my color closet has expanded to more courageous and confident shades ready to take action. Not only have I acquired new hues, but I have also ultimately shifted into a brave and valiant chame-lion.
Now, about that new acting role for Simba...
Should I take the last phrase out?? I feel like it's a little awkward.
