Commonapp essay about a time i experienced failure.
It is the last week of school before the winter break and as I pack up my stuff and get ready to head home, I come across a rather odd looking poster asking students to audition for the school play. At the center, there is a rather handsome bearded man sitting on a throne. At his left sits his queen and on his right his son stands looking out into the distance with an annoyed look on his face. Having developed a recent flavor for theatre I decide to try out for the role of the king in the auditions taking place after the winter break. I already have the handsome part covered and I suppose I'll get the beard over the winter break.
As the winter break starts I rush to the nearest superstore and buy my very first trimmer and a small pair of scissors. Over the next few weeks I spent every morning staring into the bathroom mirror looking for any piece of hair that dared stick out of its place. By the time school started once more I managed to connect my beard to my moustache by two small streaks of hair running on both sides of my lips, creating a French beard that managed to make me look rather debonair.
It is 7:00 in the morning on the first Monday back to school from my winter break. Today is no ordinary school day though. Today as I make my way down the corridor I feel a sense of pride. I feel confident about myself but this confidence is not the result of the clothes I wear or due to my social status. No it is because today I have a beard. Not peach fuzz or stubble but a full-grown beard that stands as a testament to my new developed maturity and sophistication. With my newfound confidence, I feel my personality resonates well with that of the king. And now that I also resemble the king's physical appearance with my majestic beard, I made my way towards the school hall to bigger and better things. As I walk I hold my chin up high and my lips pushed together. My eyes are wide open, and I am smirking. Nobody can touch me.
I walk into the hall to meet the school drama teacher, a stout balding man with beady eyes and a stoic expression. He hands me the script with my lines marked and asks me memorize them over the next 10 minutes. When I'm done I walk up onto the empty stage. BAM! The spotlight turns on and shifts its focus straight onto me. My performance is weak and does not do justice to the king's gentle and well-composed nature. By the end of the audition the bald man, with his spectacles hanging on the very edge of his nose, looks straight at me and says, "I don't feel you're well suited for the role of the King but I think you'd do quite well as his young incompetent son."
"No wait, give me anoth . . ." He ignores my plea and sends me off the stage with a wave of his hand. As I walk down the stage with my ego shattered he adds one final note, "Rehearsals start tomorrow, shave your beard. It doesn't suit your character".
That night I shaved for the very first time in months and as my razor took its final stride across my face I realized first and foremost that it would take me several weeks to get my beard back to its former glory but more importantly I realized that my journey into a life of theatre had just begun. A character is more than just looks rather it takes a lot of effort and patience in fully developing a character. Similarly life also is filled with different experiences and disappointments but as long as I am willing to put forth the effort and patience that had gone into my beard, I'll be ready for almost any hairy situation.
It is the last week of school before the winter break and as I pack up my stuff and get ready to head home, I come across a rather odd looking poster asking students to audition for the school play. At the center, there is a rather handsome bearded man sitting on a throne. At his left sits his queen and on his right his son stands looking out into the distance with an annoyed look on his face. Having developed a recent flavor for theatre I decide to try out for the role of the king in the auditions taking place after the winter break. I already have the handsome part covered and I suppose I'll get the beard over the winter break.
As the winter break starts I rush to the nearest superstore and buy my very first trimmer and a small pair of scissors. Over the next few weeks I spent every morning staring into the bathroom mirror looking for any piece of hair that dared stick out of its place. By the time school started once more I managed to connect my beard to my moustache by two small streaks of hair running on both sides of my lips, creating a French beard that managed to make me look rather debonair.
It is 7:00 in the morning on the first Monday back to school from my winter break. Today is no ordinary school day though. Today as I make my way down the corridor I feel a sense of pride. I feel confident about myself but this confidence is not the result of the clothes I wear or due to my social status. No it is because today I have a beard. Not peach fuzz or stubble but a full-grown beard that stands as a testament to my new developed maturity and sophistication. With my newfound confidence, I feel my personality resonates well with that of the king. And now that I also resemble the king's physical appearance with my majestic beard, I made my way towards the school hall to bigger and better things. As I walk I hold my chin up high and my lips pushed together. My eyes are wide open, and I am smirking. Nobody can touch me.
I walk into the hall to meet the school drama teacher, a stout balding man with beady eyes and a stoic expression. He hands me the script with my lines marked and asks me memorize them over the next 10 minutes. When I'm done I walk up onto the empty stage. BAM! The spotlight turns on and shifts its focus straight onto me. My performance is weak and does not do justice to the king's gentle and well-composed nature. By the end of the audition the bald man, with his spectacles hanging on the very edge of his nose, looks straight at me and says, "I don't feel you're well suited for the role of the King but I think you'd do quite well as his young incompetent son."
"No wait, give me anoth . . ." He ignores my plea and sends me off the stage with a wave of his hand. As I walk down the stage with my ego shattered he adds one final note, "Rehearsals start tomorrow, shave your beard. It doesn't suit your character".
That night I shaved for the very first time in months and as my razor took its final stride across my face I realized first and foremost that it would take me several weeks to get my beard back to its former glory but more importantly I realized that my journey into a life of theatre had just begun. A character is more than just looks rather it takes a lot of effort and patience in fully developing a character. Similarly life also is filled with different experiences and disappointments but as long as I am willing to put forth the effort and patience that had gone into my beard, I'll be ready for almost any hairy situation.