This is my response to the Common App's required short answer:
Please briefly elaborate on one of your extracurricular activities or work experiences in the space below (1000 character maximum).
As a performer, I never really thought to consider who was behind the scenes making everything run smoothly until I began working at the same studio where I danced. On my first day, I thought to myself, "How hard can it really be to run a dance studio?" The experiences that I have had throughout my tenure as a "do-it-all" office assistant completely changed my mind. I never pictured myself having to scrub out the faculty fridge or spending a part of my Christmas break taping lines down on the studio floors. Now, I can see my error in failing to recognize just how much complex and hard work my job requires and have come to the conclusion that if somebody has to do it, it might as well be me! Who knows when I will have to jump into a situation that requires me to send out an important email or take out the garbage? I will love knowing in the back of my head that my seemingly easy job has prepared me for anything. (924 characters, with spaces)
And, my response to the personal essay option:
Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you.
"Getting to the Pointe"
I nervously shifted my weight from one foot to another, feeling awkward and out of place. I certainly looked the part with my hair pulled up into a bun so tightly that it was giving me a headache and my brand new pair of pointe shoes, which I had sewn ribbons on that morning. In fact, I looked like a duplicate of any of the twelve girls standing in the studio with me, all of us wearing "ballet pink" tights and black spaghetti strap leotards. I scanned their faces, and not one looked particularly interested in me. It was as if I had suddenly turned invisible. Usually, I would not be okay with this, but my confidence seemed to have checked itself at the door. I settled for standing out of the way instead of front and center.
When I walked into the room, I could already tell that I was in over my head. This was nothing like my 45 minute weekly ballet class at the studio where I had started dance four years before. This was a ballet company that put on productions from Balanchine twice a year, whose dancers got to wear pancake tutus and tiaras. Somehow, I had made the serious mistake of signing up for the two hour class that I was standing in now.
I took my place at the barre as a Russian woman with a thick accent began calling out our names. This I can do, I thought. Ever since I began dancing, I found the routine of pliés and tendus to be comforting. I rolled through my feet, warming them up, and heard the familiar snapping and cracking of new pointe shoes. As we went through barre, I managed to get everything wrong from my body positioning to how I pointed my foot. Why had no one ever told me how ridiculous I looked trying to dance? I came from a studio where I stood front and center and figured myself to be the best, but now I was easily the worst dancer in the room. It took everything I had to not cry out of sheer frustration and embarrassment.
Hours before, as I had sat down to furiously bend my shoes into all kinds of shapes preparing for class, my head was full of images of dancers like Polina Seminova and Sylvie Guillem, who could do seven pirouettes in a row and stand en pointe for infinity without even trying. Now, I was in a class with girls who looked like they belonged right next to those prima ballerinas on stage. And I looked terrible.
Just for a second I remembered what brought me to class in the first place: the magic of performing and the beauty and power of dance. That was all it took. I finished that class, and another, and then another. I pushed myself to get better and to prove that I was up for the challenge that ballet brought. Sometimes, I wanted to bring an end to all of the bruised toes and sore muscles and frustration; although, I never stopped dancing. I imagined performing the coda of Swan Lake when I practiced my fouettés, and I heard the music of The Nutcracker in my sleep. Ballet taught me that I could achieve more than I ever imagined if I put my mind to it. I became better, but I am not the best. Here is the craziest thing of all: I am okay with that. (585 words)
Any feedback would be amazing! I have already had my personal essay looked at by my English teacher, so I am pretty sure that it should be gramatically correct for the most part. However, I am very concerned about the content. Is this what colleges are looking for? I am applying to several veryyyyy selective schools; are these responses "good enough"?
Thanks so much,
Olivia
Please briefly elaborate on one of your extracurricular activities or work experiences in the space below (1000 character maximum).
As a performer, I never really thought to consider who was behind the scenes making everything run smoothly until I began working at the same studio where I danced. On my first day, I thought to myself, "How hard can it really be to run a dance studio?" The experiences that I have had throughout my tenure as a "do-it-all" office assistant completely changed my mind. I never pictured myself having to scrub out the faculty fridge or spending a part of my Christmas break taping lines down on the studio floors. Now, I can see my error in failing to recognize just how much complex and hard work my job requires and have come to the conclusion that if somebody has to do it, it might as well be me! Who knows when I will have to jump into a situation that requires me to send out an important email or take out the garbage? I will love knowing in the back of my head that my seemingly easy job has prepared me for anything. (924 characters, with spaces)
And, my response to the personal essay option:
Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you.
"Getting to the Pointe"
I nervously shifted my weight from one foot to another, feeling awkward and out of place. I certainly looked the part with my hair pulled up into a bun so tightly that it was giving me a headache and my brand new pair of pointe shoes, which I had sewn ribbons on that morning. In fact, I looked like a duplicate of any of the twelve girls standing in the studio with me, all of us wearing "ballet pink" tights and black spaghetti strap leotards. I scanned their faces, and not one looked particularly interested in me. It was as if I had suddenly turned invisible. Usually, I would not be okay with this, but my confidence seemed to have checked itself at the door. I settled for standing out of the way instead of front and center.
When I walked into the room, I could already tell that I was in over my head. This was nothing like my 45 minute weekly ballet class at the studio where I had started dance four years before. This was a ballet company that put on productions from Balanchine twice a year, whose dancers got to wear pancake tutus and tiaras. Somehow, I had made the serious mistake of signing up for the two hour class that I was standing in now.
I took my place at the barre as a Russian woman with a thick accent began calling out our names. This I can do, I thought. Ever since I began dancing, I found the routine of pliés and tendus to be comforting. I rolled through my feet, warming them up, and heard the familiar snapping and cracking of new pointe shoes. As we went through barre, I managed to get everything wrong from my body positioning to how I pointed my foot. Why had no one ever told me how ridiculous I looked trying to dance? I came from a studio where I stood front and center and figured myself to be the best, but now I was easily the worst dancer in the room. It took everything I had to not cry out of sheer frustration and embarrassment.
Hours before, as I had sat down to furiously bend my shoes into all kinds of shapes preparing for class, my head was full of images of dancers like Polina Seminova and Sylvie Guillem, who could do seven pirouettes in a row and stand en pointe for infinity without even trying. Now, I was in a class with girls who looked like they belonged right next to those prima ballerinas on stage. And I looked terrible.
Just for a second I remembered what brought me to class in the first place: the magic of performing and the beauty and power of dance. That was all it took. I finished that class, and another, and then another. I pushed myself to get better and to prove that I was up for the challenge that ballet brought. Sometimes, I wanted to bring an end to all of the bruised toes and sore muscles and frustration; although, I never stopped dancing. I imagined performing the coda of Swan Lake when I practiced my fouettés, and I heard the music of The Nutcracker in my sleep. Ballet taught me that I could achieve more than I ever imagined if I put my mind to it. I became better, but I am not the best. Here is the craziest thing of all: I am okay with that. (585 words)
Any feedback would be amazing! I have already had my personal essay looked at by my English teacher, so I am pretty sure that it should be gramatically correct for the most part. However, I am very concerned about the content. Is this what colleges are looking for? I am applying to several veryyyyy selective schools; are these responses "good enough"?
Thanks so much,
Olivia
