Personal essay
As a kid I heard the metaphor "curiosity killed the cat" a lot of times. "Curious" was the mostly used adjective in reference to me and hearing of this expression made me feel sad and really awkward.
Since childhood I have been trying to understand how things worked around me. First objects that fascinated me were my toys. I loved getting them more than anything else. Buying a new toy for me became some sort of obsession. Some might wonder why a 3 year-old child needs so many toys, especially, that I have never really enjoyed playing with them and got bored really fast. What turned me on was the mechanics which made the toy cars move from one place to another, the magic behind the remote controller, which made it possible to navigate locomotives and make them run in circles on the rail road. I had questions. I used to walk around with screwdrivers and pliers dismantling my new shiny objects of experiment. For obvious reasons, my curiosity, or otherwise referred to as "being careless with things," was not always rewarded with delight. In fact it made my parents really mad and a couple of times they punished me the way I could still remember.
Being careless with things satisfied my curiosity for only some time. Then I resorted to a new form of expressing it. Every time I saw my parent having a rest I would come up and ask questions such as:"Why is the sky blue?" "How can birds fly?" I thought that answering these questions to my satisfaction was not obligation of every responsible parent. The problem with me was that my questions never stopped. I felt like, there was absolutely no point in "being" into conversation, if I would just stop asking. The restrain occurred in the form of simply ignoring me. It did happen, but also for a short period of time, until I faced the next challenge.
For my seventh birthday, my father made me a present. He gave me a World Book Encyclopedia. At first, I thought I would rather have received another toy for my "rabbit experiments." But in a day or two I realized the vice versa. My father's choice was the best. Now I was an "experiment" in the hands of Encyclopedia. Opening the book became crucial moment in my life. I plunged in it obtaining information about human beings and about the world surrounding us, and certainly, I did not stop at Encyclopedia.
Eventually, I found the definition of the word "curious"-- one who is "eager to know or learn something." And then I felt comfortable. I think this description fits me well and however curious, I learned to accept myself.
I wrote my personal essay and wanted to know your opinion about it. I think it's okay but I want to apply to selective liberal arts colleges and I'm not sure that essay is good enough
As a kid I heard the metaphor "curiosity killed the cat" a lot of times. "Curious" was the mostly used adjective in reference to me and hearing of this expression made me feel sad and really awkward.
Since childhood I have been trying to understand how things worked around me. First objects that fascinated me were my toys. I loved getting them more than anything else. Buying a new toy for me became some sort of obsession. Some might wonder why a 3 year-old child needs so many toys, especially, that I have never really enjoyed playing with them and got bored really fast. What turned me on was the mechanics which made the toy cars move from one place to another, the magic behind the remote controller, which made it possible to navigate locomotives and make them run in circles on the rail road. I had questions. I used to walk around with screwdrivers and pliers dismantling my new shiny objects of experiment. For obvious reasons, my curiosity, or otherwise referred to as "being careless with things," was not always rewarded with delight. In fact it made my parents really mad and a couple of times they punished me the way I could still remember.
Being careless with things satisfied my curiosity for only some time. Then I resorted to a new form of expressing it. Every time I saw my parent having a rest I would come up and ask questions such as:"Why is the sky blue?" "How can birds fly?" I thought that answering these questions to my satisfaction was not obligation of every responsible parent. The problem with me was that my questions never stopped. I felt like, there was absolutely no point in "being" into conversation, if I would just stop asking. The restrain occurred in the form of simply ignoring me. It did happen, but also for a short period of time, until I faced the next challenge.
For my seventh birthday, my father made me a present. He gave me a World Book Encyclopedia. At first, I thought I would rather have received another toy for my "rabbit experiments." But in a day or two I realized the vice versa. My father's choice was the best. Now I was an "experiment" in the hands of Encyclopedia. Opening the book became crucial moment in my life. I plunged in it obtaining information about human beings and about the world surrounding us, and certainly, I did not stop at Encyclopedia.
Eventually, I found the definition of the word "curious"-- one who is "eager to know or learn something." And then I felt comfortable. I think this description fits me well and however curious, I learned to accept myself.
I wrote my personal essay and wanted to know your opinion about it. I think it's okay but I want to apply to selective liberal arts colleges and I'm not sure that essay is good enough