Hello! Could any kind soul help me read through this essay and let me know if I've answered the question, or if there are any areas of improvement (e.g. grammar, vocab, content, etc)? Thank you so much in advance! I really appreciate any help!
Prompt #1: Some students have a background or story that is so central to their identity that they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.
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When I was fourteen, I had the opportunity to go on a high school immersion program to Chengdu, China. It was my first time in a foreign land.
I was appointed the group leader of six fellow schoolmates for the trip. On the fifth day of the trip, we visited Luo Dai Ancient Town, a humble old town east of the city. The town was bustling with activities, with teahouses scattered everywhere and a horde of people walking in all directions. I was bedazzled by the seemingly endless rows of roadside stalls selling an assortment of bizarre street food and little trinkets. We were given forty minutes before 12 noon to explore the town in groups. My heart jumped at the prospect of scouring all the stalls for bargain. I exchanged an excited look with one of my group mates, Gabby.
I do not remember exactly when was it that Gabby and I were separated from the rest of the group. We were contemplating which kind of porcelain figurines we should gift our families when I looked up and noticed our four other group mates gone.
It was 11.45 am, only fifteen minutes before the stipulated meeting time at 12 noon. Gabby and I quickened our pace and made our way through the oppressive-looking crowd of people, looking out for familiar faces.
11.58am. Still no familiar faces. I started to have an unfamiliar feeling of doubt and fear. My teachers' reminders to 'lead and take care of your group mates' and 'be punctual' drilled into my eardrums mercilessly.
Neither Gabby nor I had phone cards, which eradicated all possibilities of communication with our teachers. It was official: we were lost. I was already imagining how Gabby and I might have to make a living in Chengdu as buskers. When we came to a four-way junction, Gabby suggested that we turn to the left. But since my burning intuition told me otherwise, I insisted on heading straight.
12.45pm. My hunch was wrong. We had to backtrack to the junction and take another path.
1pm. By 1.30 pm our chartered bus would arrive and fetch the group to the next destination. We were still lost however. We panicked as we ran in search of the teahouse we were supposed to be at an hour ago. It was 1.10pm by the time our eyes caught sight of a building with curved gables. When I saw my schoolmates huddling around the tables having their lunch, I felt like I had fallen into an abyss of shame. Dozens of accusatory gazes pricked me.
That fateful day had since served as an important reminder for me to be a responsible leader. More importantly, the hour spent scouring the streets made me ponder the meaning of paths we take in life.
Life's path seems more like a maze than a clear trajectory. We are bound to meet many road junctions in life, which to me symbolize opportunities for us to make decisions and plan for our near or distant futures. Some could be as straightforward as four-way junctions, while others could be more complicated. We wander off in wrong directions, face dead ends and zigzag our way through unfamiliar pathways. We are born into this labyrinth and we navigate around it, motivated by personal gains or forced upon by society. Just as I had chosen a wrong path on the street of Chengdu based on gut feeling, the choices we make in life can lead us to a road of no return.
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(Word count: 599/600)
Prompt #1: Some students have a background or story that is so central to their identity that they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.
---
When I was fourteen, I had the opportunity to go on a high school immersion program to Chengdu, China. It was my first time in a foreign land.
I was appointed the group leader of six fellow schoolmates for the trip. On the fifth day of the trip, we visited Luo Dai Ancient Town, a humble old town east of the city. The town was bustling with activities, with teahouses scattered everywhere and a horde of people walking in all directions. I was bedazzled by the seemingly endless rows of roadside stalls selling an assortment of bizarre street food and little trinkets. We were given forty minutes before 12 noon to explore the town in groups. My heart jumped at the prospect of scouring all the stalls for bargain. I exchanged an excited look with one of my group mates, Gabby.
I do not remember exactly when was it that Gabby and I were separated from the rest of the group. We were contemplating which kind of porcelain figurines we should gift our families when I looked up and noticed our four other group mates gone.
It was 11.45 am, only fifteen minutes before the stipulated meeting time at 12 noon. Gabby and I quickened our pace and made our way through the oppressive-looking crowd of people, looking out for familiar faces.
11.58am. Still no familiar faces. I started to have an unfamiliar feeling of doubt and fear. My teachers' reminders to 'lead and take care of your group mates' and 'be punctual' drilled into my eardrums mercilessly.
Neither Gabby nor I had phone cards, which eradicated all possibilities of communication with our teachers. It was official: we were lost. I was already imagining how Gabby and I might have to make a living in Chengdu as buskers. When we came to a four-way junction, Gabby suggested that we turn to the left. But since my burning intuition told me otherwise, I insisted on heading straight.
12.45pm. My hunch was wrong. We had to backtrack to the junction and take another path.
1pm. By 1.30 pm our chartered bus would arrive and fetch the group to the next destination. We were still lost however. We panicked as we ran in search of the teahouse we were supposed to be at an hour ago. It was 1.10pm by the time our eyes caught sight of a building with curved gables. When I saw my schoolmates huddling around the tables having their lunch, I felt like I had fallen into an abyss of shame. Dozens of accusatory gazes pricked me.
That fateful day had since served as an important reminder for me to be a responsible leader. More importantly, the hour spent scouring the streets made me ponder the meaning of paths we take in life.
Life's path seems more like a maze than a clear trajectory. We are bound to meet many road junctions in life, which to me symbolize opportunities for us to make decisions and plan for our near or distant futures. Some could be as straightforward as four-way junctions, while others could be more complicated. We wander off in wrong directions, face dead ends and zigzag our way through unfamiliar pathways. We are born into this labyrinth and we navigate around it, motivated by personal gains or forced upon by society. Just as I had chosen a wrong path on the street of Chengdu based on gut feeling, the choices we make in life can lead us to a road of no return.
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(Word count: 599/600)
