This is the supplemental essay for Princeton, I chose the first prompt on a person who has influenced you in a significant way. Any critique is welcome, please help me make it better! Thanks!
Before I had even entered kindergarten, I was already learning sparring techniques at the local martial arts academy. As the only girl in my class, I enjoyed being able to fight with the boys. But while this activity kept me fit, it was the family I gained that encouraged me to stay at the same school for twelve years. In particular, my martial arts instructor has been a continual source of influence and inspiration.
My instructor had troubled beginnings - his father died when he was young, and he associated himself with some questionable characters as a teenager. He found martial arts as a method of stabilizing himself and eventually opened his own school. In every class, he combines both physical techniques with philosophy and self-reflection, pushing his students to think as much as fight. He has certainly driven me to challenge myself, especially in my development as a person.
I spent the first five years of my training quickly excelling through the ranks of the academy. However, I froze when it came time to test for my black belt. He only asked me one question: What is honor? I couldn't find the words to answer, and ended up sobbing on the floor.
I believed that my previous successes would override my mistakes, and I would still pass my test. But my instructor did not send me that long-awaited letter congratulating me on my newly achieved rank. It was my first encounter with failure. At first I didn't understand. How could I be the first of the academy to fail a black belt test? I was upset with myself and with my instructor. But he later explained that although I had failed, he would have failed me had he given me the belt. He taught me humility and modesty. I saw then that I needed to surmount my obstacles alone; I couldn't expect him to give me an easy pass.
His words drive me to climb over this new mountain. I persevered, and I tested again. I knew that I did not know everything, and that he challenged me not to humiliate me, but to make me a better person. When I passed the second test, I knew that he had steered me in the right direction. My instructor changed my character in the same way he refined my techniques, taking them from shy and unsure to confident and fluid.
Every time I reach an obstacle, whether in martial arts of in other aspects of my life, my instructor is there to remind me that everyone hits a wall. He has taught me to step back from challenges, reassess them, and proceed to overcome. This fall I ended my journey with the academy. As my instructor hugged me goodbye, I knew that he would always be there to impart inspirational words and actions. Thanks to his help, I transformed from a small, quiet child to a self-assured, resolute teenager.
Before I had even entered kindergarten, I was already learning sparring techniques at the local martial arts academy. As the only girl in my class, I enjoyed being able to fight with the boys. But while this activity kept me fit, it was the family I gained that encouraged me to stay at the same school for twelve years. In particular, my martial arts instructor has been a continual source of influence and inspiration.
My instructor had troubled beginnings - his father died when he was young, and he associated himself with some questionable characters as a teenager. He found martial arts as a method of stabilizing himself and eventually opened his own school. In every class, he combines both physical techniques with philosophy and self-reflection, pushing his students to think as much as fight. He has certainly driven me to challenge myself, especially in my development as a person.
I spent the first five years of my training quickly excelling through the ranks of the academy. However, I froze when it came time to test for my black belt. He only asked me one question: What is honor? I couldn't find the words to answer, and ended up sobbing on the floor.
I believed that my previous successes would override my mistakes, and I would still pass my test. But my instructor did not send me that long-awaited letter congratulating me on my newly achieved rank. It was my first encounter with failure. At first I didn't understand. How could I be the first of the academy to fail a black belt test? I was upset with myself and with my instructor. But he later explained that although I had failed, he would have failed me had he given me the belt. He taught me humility and modesty. I saw then that I needed to surmount my obstacles alone; I couldn't expect him to give me an easy pass.
His words drive me to climb over this new mountain. I persevered, and I tested again. I knew that I did not know everything, and that he challenged me not to humiliate me, but to make me a better person. When I passed the second test, I knew that he had steered me in the right direction. My instructor changed my character in the same way he refined my techniques, taking them from shy and unsure to confident and fluid.
Every time I reach an obstacle, whether in martial arts of in other aspects of my life, my instructor is there to remind me that everyone hits a wall. He has taught me to step back from challenges, reassess them, and proceed to overcome. This fall I ended my journey with the academy. As my instructor hugged me goodbye, I knew that he would always be there to impart inspirational words and actions. Thanks to his help, I transformed from a small, quiet child to a self-assured, resolute teenager.
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