These are my tentative common app essays (the second is my UC2 essay, just tweaked and added to a bit) - all critique and advice will be wholly appreciated! [:
SHORT ANSWER:
Heavy bells around my ankles clang as I take my position behind the ominous curtains. My outfit's rich, golden-red hues are in vibrant parallel with the music that is introduced on the loudspeaker. The curtains are pulled up as if by an invisible puppeteer, and the dance begins. This is Bharat Natyam - the Indian classical dance form that takes me from the stage on which my bells strongly resound and throws me into an alternate world of concentration, beauty, and precision. Whether I am practicing at home or performing on stage, I lose track of left and right; all I feel are the rigorous steps invading my bones and brain, frantically urging me along until a stanza is over and I receive the luxury of a ten-minute break. Bharat Natyam is exhausting and sometimes mind numbing - yet my immersion in a beautiful, whirlwind universe of song and movement is invaluable.
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ESSAY (can someone also suggest which CApp essay topic this would fit best under?):
I couldn't understand the first thing the old woman softly muttered. She shuffled around the kitchen, absentmindedly picking up utensils with her fragile hands. "How am I going to get through this?" I thought anxiously to myself. For a month in the summer, I would have to supervise sickly Li Hua during the weekdays. The task was seemingly easy enough - save for the fact that she was my friend's Chinese grandmother and knew no English other than "thank you" and "bye". Little did I know that in just four weeks a petite, hunched old lady would change my life.
Initially, I wasn't sure how to communicate effectively because of the daunting language barrier. Soon, I decided to devise small hand gestures that allowed us to understand each other's basic actions. A hand to the mouth was "eat", and one to the ear indicated that I should turn on the radio. This system worked well, and I was rewarded with a sweet, wavering smile whenever I prepared Li's lunch carefully or turned the radio volume up. Subconsciously, I waited for these fleeting moments of her happiness because they, in turn, lit up my days.
After a second week, I decided to forgo my apprehension and learn some words in Mandarin. With my first few tries, Li laughed at my pronunciation with understanding and gratitude. I felt proud of my efforts, but even better was her reaction - knowing that I could make her feel comfortable with my presence was invaluable. Sometimes, I carefully observed her cautious, graceful movements. I noticed that she preferred to sit on the right side of the couch, liked grape jelly with her bread in the morning, and loved looking at pictures in children's books. Thus, a person who seemed so foreign to me at first steadily became more relatable. Each day began to fly by as we bridged our cultural gap through small, appreciative gestures. When Li entrusted me with the smallest of tasks, like opening the backyard door to let in some air, I felt a fierce sense of self-worth. I had finally been given true responsibility, and someone was relying on me to do my best.
Once we both overcame our doubts, I was invited to sit with Li Hua while we watched sappy Chinese dramas or looked at colorful drawings together. Some days, we would take walks around the expansive house as Li silently pointed out pictures of her family, herself, and little trinkets brought from China. Often wordlessly, we shared interests and rewarding moments that were never obstructed by our outward and ethnic differences. I grew patience for Li Hua's deliberate actions and halting requests, and consequently, for everyone around me. Without realizing it, I had become more calm and tolerant in my attitude towards others - all because of one elderly woman who reached out to me with her heart and trust. I was told that after I left the house each day, Li would ask my friend where "the sweet helper" had gone.
In four short weeks, I had learned more than I had ever expected to about my own character. I found that cultural divides are definitely not unyielding and was proud to show that, indeed, I could truly understand a heart without understanding the words. Much of my time in college will be spent forging relationships with significant people, and I am now confident in my ability to confidently approach others and investigate what makes them unique. With my newfound maturity, I will continue on in school and life as someone who is receptive to others' needs and unafraid to connect with all types of people. Instead of shying away from a challenge, no matter in what shape or form or body it may be, now I feel ready to take it on with care and attention to detail. Although Li Hua passed away recently, I will use every instance of joy and care we exchanged to better the lives of everyone that I encounter.
Thanks everyone!
SHORT ANSWER:
Heavy bells around my ankles clang as I take my position behind the ominous curtains. My outfit's rich, golden-red hues are in vibrant parallel with the music that is introduced on the loudspeaker. The curtains are pulled up as if by an invisible puppeteer, and the dance begins. This is Bharat Natyam - the Indian classical dance form that takes me from the stage on which my bells strongly resound and throws me into an alternate world of concentration, beauty, and precision. Whether I am practicing at home or performing on stage, I lose track of left and right; all I feel are the rigorous steps invading my bones and brain, frantically urging me along until a stanza is over and I receive the luxury of a ten-minute break. Bharat Natyam is exhausting and sometimes mind numbing - yet my immersion in a beautiful, whirlwind universe of song and movement is invaluable.
--------------
ESSAY (can someone also suggest which CApp essay topic this would fit best under?):
I couldn't understand the first thing the old woman softly muttered. She shuffled around the kitchen, absentmindedly picking up utensils with her fragile hands. "How am I going to get through this?" I thought anxiously to myself. For a month in the summer, I would have to supervise sickly Li Hua during the weekdays. The task was seemingly easy enough - save for the fact that she was my friend's Chinese grandmother and knew no English other than "thank you" and "bye". Little did I know that in just four weeks a petite, hunched old lady would change my life.
Initially, I wasn't sure how to communicate effectively because of the daunting language barrier. Soon, I decided to devise small hand gestures that allowed us to understand each other's basic actions. A hand to the mouth was "eat", and one to the ear indicated that I should turn on the radio. This system worked well, and I was rewarded with a sweet, wavering smile whenever I prepared Li's lunch carefully or turned the radio volume up. Subconsciously, I waited for these fleeting moments of her happiness because they, in turn, lit up my days.
After a second week, I decided to forgo my apprehension and learn some words in Mandarin. With my first few tries, Li laughed at my pronunciation with understanding and gratitude. I felt proud of my efforts, but even better was her reaction - knowing that I could make her feel comfortable with my presence was invaluable. Sometimes, I carefully observed her cautious, graceful movements. I noticed that she preferred to sit on the right side of the couch, liked grape jelly with her bread in the morning, and loved looking at pictures in children's books. Thus, a person who seemed so foreign to me at first steadily became more relatable. Each day began to fly by as we bridged our cultural gap through small, appreciative gestures. When Li entrusted me with the smallest of tasks, like opening the backyard door to let in some air, I felt a fierce sense of self-worth. I had finally been given true responsibility, and someone was relying on me to do my best.
Once we both overcame our doubts, I was invited to sit with Li Hua while we watched sappy Chinese dramas or looked at colorful drawings together. Some days, we would take walks around the expansive house as Li silently pointed out pictures of her family, herself, and little trinkets brought from China. Often wordlessly, we shared interests and rewarding moments that were never obstructed by our outward and ethnic differences. I grew patience for Li Hua's deliberate actions and halting requests, and consequently, for everyone around me. Without realizing it, I had become more calm and tolerant in my attitude towards others - all because of one elderly woman who reached out to me with her heart and trust. I was told that after I left the house each day, Li would ask my friend where "the sweet helper" had gone.
In four short weeks, I had learned more than I had ever expected to about my own character. I found that cultural divides are definitely not unyielding and was proud to show that, indeed, I could truly understand a heart without understanding the words. Much of my time in college will be spent forging relationships with significant people, and I am now confident in my ability to confidently approach others and investigate what makes them unique. With my newfound maturity, I will continue on in school and life as someone who is receptive to others' needs and unafraid to connect with all types of people. Instead of shying away from a challenge, no matter in what shape or form or body it may be, now I feel ready to take it on with care and attention to detail. Although Li Hua passed away recently, I will use every instance of joy and care we exchanged to better the lives of everyone that I encounter.
Thanks everyone!
