Prompt:
Describe a character in fiction, a historical figure, or a creative work (as in art, music, science, etc.) that has had an influence on you, and explain that influence.
Essay:
"I've got a heart full of darkness;
I've got a headache full of dreams
got a lifetime of memories.
I don't know what they mean to this world.
Is there a place in this world for a dreamer,
If dreaming were all he could bring?"
--Darrell Scott [Singer/Songwriter], "There's a Stone around My Belly"
The Hero, the Outcast, the Star-crossed Lovers, the Orphan, the Shrew: these storybook stereotypes, these pieces of humanity, these are the elements that mix and blend and spin the tales that attest to the soul, that are written in ink and told everyday. These shards of culture are the objects of dissection in critiques and literature classrooms everyday, but there is one archetype that has been ignored, that is forgotten, one that is lost to a world that needs it more than it may know. This character is best known as the Visionary or the Prophet, but I like to refer to him as the Dreamer. The Dreamer is an idealist, one that looks out on a chaotic world and sees one cohesive and functional, full of life and intentional. The Dreamer can be anyone from Isaiah to Kennedy; however, they were exceptions, because the Prophet is usually held with disdain and mistrust. The Dreamer yearns to change the world, but in turn has no place in it.
This is me. I am a man of ideas. I have solutions, and aphorisms, and indecisions. I am a Romantic. I am exuberant and inclined to the sins of the mind's limitless fantasies. I am contradictory. I wear buttons that state the wrong belief for the wrong reason on my right breast pocket, for a conversation never arises from an idly held conviction. I am a heart that does more than beat. I find meaning in the simplest peculiarities, and connect even the most distant of concepts. I never wish past what is already mine. Anything that I could possibly desire in the future will come when appropriate if today's choices are made well, not made with a knowing eye pointed toward tomorrow, but with a fundamental philosophy correctly formed. I am utterly imperfect. I fail on half these beliefs everyday, but I fail stupendously. All of this, everything I am, is the result of the culture that surrounds me. I am a great sum of every influence of any man or art that has ever affected me, and the product of their sweet impression.
In To Kill a Mockingbird, Atticus Finch taught me humble wisdom; Scout's eternal optimism taught me the art of being a child and showed me the light in people's souls. In The Stand, Mother Abagail exemplifies morality in simple kindness. She showed me how to lead a nation and remain soft-spoken. In The Once and Future King, King Arthur illustrated how to dream beyond the imaginable and how to fail honorably when the world cannot mold as easily as one had hoped. In Dead Poets Society, Mr. Keating, oh Captain, my Captain showed me where the classroom begins and where the classroom ends and all the infinite wisdom in between. Every Romantic poet sits upon a pedestal in my heart, such as William Blake, who taught me how to rhyme and flow and speak intentionally, and how to find meaning in the world around. The modern poet Li-Young Lee taught me the power and color and taste of words. Freeman Dyson, the physicist, showed me the beauty of a logical thought and the natural spirituality of the universe. Darrell Scott taught me to sing, to sing for the past, to sing for my home, to sing for the broken and the lonely and the forgotten, and to sing to the world any worthless, beautiful idea that floods my mind, no matter how unwilling the world is to listen.
I am a Dreamer, a Dreamer who finds the universe misaligned. I intend to do my part, exact my change. I intend to leave this world jarred and shaken and questioning. I have a message, a small reminder, and-this time-the world will listen to its Prophet, its Visionary, its Dreamer.
The Hero, the Outcast, the Star-crossed Lovers, the Orphan, the Shrew: these storybook stereotypes, these pieces of humanity -- these are the elements that mix and blend and spin the tales that attest to the soul, that are written in ink and told everyday.
I don't understand this one: I wear buttons that state the wrong belief for the wrong reason on my right breast pocket, for a conversation never arises from an idly held conviction.
She showed me how to lead a nation while remaining soft-spoken.
This is brilliant, and you ar a great writer. Unfortunately, some readers of this may decide that you strayed from the prompt question; part of responding to a prompt is to accurately respond to it's particular challenge: They asked for a single character or work.
However, this essay is great! If you decide to revise to focus on a single example, you should save this great material for other essays.
