The prompt is that of essay C on the common application, in which you provide any extra personal details, goals, or obstacles about yourself. Below is what I plan to submit. Please read and throw tomatoes or flowers in your comments or editing. Thank you.
"Shoot me." I murmured to myself as I sat there sipping my usual Starbucks' Grande iced-Caramel Macchiato in Barnes & Nobles for the fourth night that week. "I wish I climbed a stupid mountain, fed African children, or something." I heaved a sigh and took a break. In the stall, I released all the stress I had (literally). Little did I know, besides that awkward moment being fatefully chosen to occur, inspiration struck me on the toilet. Soon enough, my fingers begin rapidly dancing across the keyboard.
There is a one in a million chance for someone to come across my identity, especially in a pile of college applications. There is a ninety-nine percent chance some unoriginal joke becomes inserted into the conversation after discovering my name. It's an automatic laugh when someone pronounces it. The name never stops anyone from making a lame remark like I never heard that one before.
However, I deliver that kind of power to captivate my audiences because they naturally produce an amused sound when they call on me. Let's not forget I can reel in men sailing the open road with my seductive, goddess-like laugh, which eventually becomes interrupted by a snort. I am also a childhood heroine for having rescued a mother cat and her four newborn kittens during the invasion of Hurricane Rita. Children idolized me as a superior role model for owning a taller, two-wheeled version of their tricycle. But my point is who am I? The name is Ha. No joke.
"Is there a Ha Dang?" The teacher would ask the class.
"Dang ha-ha-ha!" The students would ring out violently.
"Present..." I would whimper among the laughter as I slid lower in my seat. These flashbacks in class often have me despising a teacher more just for doing their job by taking attendance, and especially those substitutes that pronounces it worse.
"How do you say your name, dear?" Teachers sometimes asked again.
"Huh-aaa?" I guessed wearily after attempting thousands of times in the past years.
"Hey? Hi?" The teachers usually stress it. Then I knew that was my cue to not even bother at all. I just glared back at them, shaking my head.
"Kiss of life" was the meaning of my name that I went along with for years. For a change, I gained an ounce of confidence from that idea. Then my discovery of the true meaning for Ha was "river," that stream of water flowing through San Marcos. I would like to believe that maybe my folks delivered me near a majestic river in Thailand and named me after it. Still, I can't believe them! Parents never paused to think about how naming their kid will affect the poor child's future.
I'm ashamed to use a simple "Haha" through texts, so "LOL" becomes my solution. Those first introductions to strangers, such as having to stand up on the first day of school to tell the class about you, are pointless to me. They won't understand what that "sound" I just made was or why I had "laughed." No one would remotely even begin to pronounce Ha right anyways. Some don't even try and just smile weakly as if I am a tad hysterical. Better yet, my favorite reaction to those first timers hearing my name is their "What-kind-of-name-is-that-but-I-feel-sorry-for-her" expression. Those never get old.
Holly was the first identity I impersonated to fill out any online information. Soon subscription mail and letters kept pouring in for a "Holly Dang." Hilary was another girl's name I stole for my first job as a sales associate at Forever XXI. Eventually, the teenage co-workers saw past my facade and the "Haha" jokes spread. Finally, I found Halle. She was perfect to mask. Ha is even spelled in the name and the sound of "Halle" just suits me.
I first became a Halle to a love interest who had no mutual friends with me to suspect the lie. Then Halle appeared again during my second job interning at AIG VALIC, a major-fortune insurance company. The older employees were past immaturity to not utilize Ha in any horrid manner, and they would call me Halle anyways since some obviously can't enunciate "Ha". The taunting jokes progressed more quietly and my phony character grew louder, but the nicknames I have played with throughout my life, along with the alter-egos of those names I shaped into, have made me forgotten the true identity born first and who I really am.
"Why would you change your name? I like it the way it is," My best friend told me once. I assumed she had to say that because she is accustomed to being around Ha. Often I can feel Ha hiding behind Holly, Hilary, and Halle, like somehow her presence leaks through the cracks of these alter-egos. As I gotten older I became more attach with Ha and realized the title represents a Vietnamese cultural part of me. Of course, I also grew to learn that I can always change my identity when I become of legal age.
Still, I remember knowing this delusional girl who ran around chasing pigeons, made great discoveries in her backyard, and embarked on grand adventures downtown and to the mall. On several occasions, she went under house arrest without internet for weeks after missing curfews. This girl then became outlawed from her brother's room, and went even further to make voyages on vast seas of chlorine water. I also heard tales of her hiking a mile every weekday after work to the local bookstore in killer office heels. Rumors spread how she wreaked havoc on the lives of tiny, innocent civilians by stomping on their pile-of-dirt-homes; created an orphanage for stray animals in her own room; and climbed high fences to hang a victory flag at the top, but mostly she just captured the neighbor's cat and dived into embarrassing situations that made her friends feel better about themselves.
This remarkable figure continues to mark footprints in the lives of people who love her for who she is and on the sandcastle her brother worked hard at. I will now be proud to be buried as her and her tombstone engraves with "Ha Dang."
Little did I know, besides that awkward moment being fatefully chosen to occur, inspiration struck me while on the toilet. ---Ha ha!! This is great writing, very honest! You went from 'Goody 2 shoes to Charles Bukowski in four sentences! I love it!
However, I deliver that kind of power to captivate my audiences, because they naturally produce an amused sound when they call on me.
Let's not forget that I can reel in men sailing the open road with my seductive, goddess-like laugh, which eventually becomes interrupted by a snort.---awesome!
... along with the alter-egos of those names I shaped into, have made me forget the true identity born first and who I really am.
As I've gotten older I've become more attached to Ha and realized the title represents a Vietnamese cultural part of me.
Rumors spread of how she wreaked havoc on the lives of tiny, innocent civilians by stomping on their pile-of-dirt-homes; created an orphanage...
I will now be proud to be buried as her and her tombstone engraved with "Ha Dang."
You are a unique and amazing writer! I think that sooner or later, writing will become your major, for if it does not, the world might be deprived of the laughs and happy feeling I got, just from reading this essay. Good luck with school and have fun!
:)
I enjoyed reading this very much, I continued reading and usually it takes something really good to keep me reading :) great job, it was amusing and i bet it will stand out from other college applications!
Please check mine out:)
