Hi there, I'm applying for ED (Nov 1st yikes), and I need to get this Commonapp essay out of the way before my upcoming A-levels (in a week too, double yikes!). I'd really appreciate any if you'd share any constructive criticism and thoughts that could help me improve! This topic has been said to be a pitfall of clichés, and it'll be a double whammy if my essay on a social issue AND a content environment is a flop. My wish is to not sound like a contrived and snotty applicant whose sole purpose in hospice volunteerism is to score brownie points in admissions. I'm more interesting than that (I hope), and I want the officers to see how important the issue of dying and ageing is important to me through this essay. I'm also in a conundrum about my title, if you have any ideas for that too, I'm really up for any suggestions. Thanks in advance!
Describe a place or environment where you are perfectly content. What do you do or experience there, and why is it meaningful to you?
Life amidst Death
Saturdays in the garden are my weekly treasures. The odour of fertiliser pellets and compost is nothing exciting, but one whiff of the musky air acts as an aphrodisiac, melting away the anxieties of the past week. Patting down the soil banishes all my worries, and pruning the thorny shrubs help me sever ties from the disquiet. Amidst the orchids and the koi ponds, the garden of Dover Park Hospice is the place I've helped to grow, and more importantly, a place where I've grown myself.
Maintaining this viridian shaded getaway comes at no easy price; our Sunflower Gardening dream team is seasoned in age and unmatched in passion for the garden. They prove that age and arthritis really isn't a hindrance in pursuing their interests. Uncle Philip would shuffle in, with glasses perched on his nose bridge, ready to inspect the new orchid buds and blooms. Aunties Elsie and Serene are devoted to their square-foot garden, showing off the literal fruits of their labour at any opportunity. Even when all of them are at least twenty years my senior, we chat up a storm like a group of high schoolers. It's incomprehensible that people only see their age and not their wealth of experience. They're certainly more industrious than I am!
Whenever I make rounds to collect the potted plants, I channel Sherlock Holmes and astutely observe the commotion. The aroma of mouth-watering local delights, brought in by visitors to satisfy their relative's cravings, linger in the air. Matrons of the wards congregate over the nurses' station, immersed in conversations peppered with Tagalog. The Gems Choir is by the piano, crooning an impassioned rendition of 'Country Road'. All the upbeat tunes draw in my oldies soul, but there's a greater magnetic pull for their wheelchair-bound fans. Without fail, a few of the elderly patients would take up the best seats in the house and hum along to the nostalgic melodies. Really, how can this lively place be society's definition of a death house?
As I return to the patients' bedsides, they're excited to have their 'pots of sunshine' return to them, and I'm glad to supply a piece of our comforting garden. Some faces are familiar, while some are gone, and some are new. They buzz with updates on the latest TV serial, funny anecdotes and grains of wisdom, and I'm drawn to their stories like bees to honey. What may be a reprieve from a dreary week to me is quiet solace for those who near their end of life. Moving on to the next ward is always bittersweet as I may not see these friendly faces again, considering how they don't usually stay beyond the average thirty days. Nevertheless, it is a privilege to see our labour of love in the gardens come to life in these patients.
The hospice garden is a juxtaposition of life blooming amidst a place of death; plants and patients blossom in this open hospice environment. Over my four years volunteering here, I've grown to appreciate this harmonious relationship of growth and life coming full circle. Respecting the sanctity of life and death has matured my perspective of Singapore: our society cannot progress without reconciling fear of death with the beauty of living, especially when the silver tsunami has washed along the question of graceful ageing and dying. Singapore needs to focus beyond the trees and see the forest, and look towards inclusive growth instead of the mindless pursuit of economic prosperity. I want to grow recognition for the pioneers who sowed the seeds of our young nation. I hope to nurture gardens of comfort for our elderly community, adding life to their last days and give them the opportunity to enjoy Paradise in our Garden City.
----
"We come from the earth. We return to the earth. And in between we garden." - Anonymous
(Word count: 645)
Describe a place or environment where you are perfectly content. What do you do or experience there, and why is it meaningful to you?
Life amidst Death
Saturdays in the garden are my weekly treasures. The odour of fertiliser pellets and compost is nothing exciting, but one whiff of the musky air acts as an aphrodisiac, melting away the anxieties of the past week. Patting down the soil banishes all my worries, and pruning the thorny shrubs help me sever ties from the disquiet. Amidst the orchids and the koi ponds, the garden of Dover Park Hospice is the place I've helped to grow, and more importantly, a place where I've grown myself.
Maintaining this viridian shaded getaway comes at no easy price; our Sunflower Gardening dream team is seasoned in age and unmatched in passion for the garden. They prove that age and arthritis really isn't a hindrance in pursuing their interests. Uncle Philip would shuffle in, with glasses perched on his nose bridge, ready to inspect the new orchid buds and blooms. Aunties Elsie and Serene are devoted to their square-foot garden, showing off the literal fruits of their labour at any opportunity. Even when all of them are at least twenty years my senior, we chat up a storm like a group of high schoolers. It's incomprehensible that people only see their age and not their wealth of experience. They're certainly more industrious than I am!
Whenever I make rounds to collect the potted plants, I channel Sherlock Holmes and astutely observe the commotion. The aroma of mouth-watering local delights, brought in by visitors to satisfy their relative's cravings, linger in the air. Matrons of the wards congregate over the nurses' station, immersed in conversations peppered with Tagalog. The Gems Choir is by the piano, crooning an impassioned rendition of 'Country Road'. All the upbeat tunes draw in my oldies soul, but there's a greater magnetic pull for their wheelchair-bound fans. Without fail, a few of the elderly patients would take up the best seats in the house and hum along to the nostalgic melodies. Really, how can this lively place be society's definition of a death house?
As I return to the patients' bedsides, they're excited to have their 'pots of sunshine' return to them, and I'm glad to supply a piece of our comforting garden. Some faces are familiar, while some are gone, and some are new. They buzz with updates on the latest TV serial, funny anecdotes and grains of wisdom, and I'm drawn to their stories like bees to honey. What may be a reprieve from a dreary week to me is quiet solace for those who near their end of life. Moving on to the next ward is always bittersweet as I may not see these friendly faces again, considering how they don't usually stay beyond the average thirty days. Nevertheless, it is a privilege to see our labour of love in the gardens come to life in these patients.
The hospice garden is a juxtaposition of life blooming amidst a place of death; plants and patients blossom in this open hospice environment. Over my four years volunteering here, I've grown to appreciate this harmonious relationship of growth and life coming full circle. Respecting the sanctity of life and death has matured my perspective of Singapore: our society cannot progress without reconciling fear of death with the beauty of living, especially when the silver tsunami has washed along the question of graceful ageing and dying. Singapore needs to focus beyond the trees and see the forest, and look towards inclusive growth instead of the mindless pursuit of economic prosperity. I want to grow recognition for the pioneers who sowed the seeds of our young nation. I hope to nurture gardens of comfort for our elderly community, adding life to their last days and give them the opportunity to enjoy Paradise in our Garden City.
----
"We come from the earth. We return to the earth. And in between we garden." - Anonymous
(Word count: 645)
