Hello!
I would LOVE some brutal criticism. I really want to make this essay the best it can be.. I'll be using it for my common application!
Thank you in advance.
Into the Light
The blank bulletin board in front of me had no expectations; it told me no encouraging words that could pressure me to sign it, yet this was exactly what I was about to do. I fumbled for a pen, secretly hoping to find none. To my immediate misfortune, the stranger to my right offered me one and I went directly to writing my name. Inside, I was bursting with thoughts of "I cannot believe I am doing this." Did I even belong there? Outside, I just smiled and gave the pen back.
After nine years of school, I had developed a conditioned cycle of study that I rarely broke free from. Determined to push myself to my intellectual limits, I had let my passion for music grow stale from disuse. A constant feeling of uneasiness and dissatisfaction with myself made me seek out new avenues of fulfillment.
My friend, Jessie, who was the lead singer of a band, regularly told me stories of the exhilaration she felt after a performance. I would watch her with a look of longing, dreaming of the opportunity to fearlessly communicate my capacity for art and creativity. To face an audience's expectations would mean to feel comfortable with my own. To perform would mean to be at ease with lights blinding me as I stood raw upon a stage.
As extraordinary as this sounded, I was acutely afraid. There seemed to be too many parts of my personality I would have to confront to merely tackle the monologue in the audition. It was impulse which drove me to sign up for the Pirates of Penzance Spring Musical; I felt an undeniable propulsion to take this frightening leap. However, rumors of the superficiality of "theater kids" were overwhelming; I could not help but feel frightened and anxious at the thought of losing myself in the whirlwind of outgoing personalities that starkly contrasted my own. I thought I could change, becoming a monster that fed an attention and self-aggrandizement. Even without this, I would have to battle my personal introversion, which turned contact with strangers into a nerve-wracking experience for me.
After finding out I landed the role of the soprano 'Constance', I could not yelp with glee; I was too wary of all the hurdles I would have to climb. I had seen how the theater director sternly reproached his students when they missed a beat. I had watched the drama students communicate in their native tongue of rhyme and song. Now, I would learn to survive in this foreign terrain!
It was the first day of practice. I looked all over the place for my tongue but could not find it--I was nearly mute. In the changing room, the lead soprano was grooming her feathers and practicing her trills; meanwhile, the director was rendering masterfully intimidating arpeggios. Suddenly, we were all asked to gather around the piano. In this strange new environment, we all began to sing. As a soprano, I was an essential component to the unity of the piece; this belief would slowly give me the confidence to find my tongue.
For the first month, I was a prisoner of nerves as the rehearsals drew near at the end of each day. I would shy away to the bathroom, breathe deeply, and tell myself to feel comfortable with new people and embrace the scrutiny of the critical stage lights. Soon enough, however, theater itself set me free. For almost the first time in my life, I was truly understanding the extrovert and engaging in foolish acts of humor. I sang, danced, and pantomimed through the hallways without a fear of being heard or seen. I learned how to bounce from the confines of my personality into the character I was interpreting. Overall, I allowed myself to step out of my insecurities; no longer would I mind speaking in front of an audience nor approaching absolute strangers. Drama had given me a strength I had hidden away most of my life.
As soon as the curtains closed on my first performance, I felt a triumphant rush of joy. Jessie was right; I would never be the same again.
For me, the actor is a brave soul, willing to expose his or her weaknesses to the perceptive and penetrating stage lights. However, it is a risk that one can only gain from. In life, we must learn to probe through our greatest anxieties. It is there where we find the courage to grow both inward and outward. Today, when I am faced with the observant, intimidating light of everyday experiences, I still take my distinctive deep breaths--but now I do so with acceptance and faith in my potential to persevere.
Oh, and if you have the time, please look into my "The Eight Grade Science Fair" essay! Thanks in advance :]
I would LOVE some brutal criticism. I really want to make this essay the best it can be.. I'll be using it for my common application!
Thank you in advance.
Into the Light
The blank bulletin board in front of me had no expectations; it told me no encouraging words that could pressure me to sign it, yet this was exactly what I was about to do. I fumbled for a pen, secretly hoping to find none. To my immediate misfortune, the stranger to my right offered me one and I went directly to writing my name. Inside, I was bursting with thoughts of "I cannot believe I am doing this." Did I even belong there? Outside, I just smiled and gave the pen back.
After nine years of school, I had developed a conditioned cycle of study that I rarely broke free from. Determined to push myself to my intellectual limits, I had let my passion for music grow stale from disuse. A constant feeling of uneasiness and dissatisfaction with myself made me seek out new avenues of fulfillment.
My friend, Jessie, who was the lead singer of a band, regularly told me stories of the exhilaration she felt after a performance. I would watch her with a look of longing, dreaming of the opportunity to fearlessly communicate my capacity for art and creativity. To face an audience's expectations would mean to feel comfortable with my own. To perform would mean to be at ease with lights blinding me as I stood raw upon a stage.
As extraordinary as this sounded, I was acutely afraid. There seemed to be too many parts of my personality I would have to confront to merely tackle the monologue in the audition. It was impulse which drove me to sign up for the Pirates of Penzance Spring Musical; I felt an undeniable propulsion to take this frightening leap. However, rumors of the superficiality of "theater kids" were overwhelming; I could not help but feel frightened and anxious at the thought of losing myself in the whirlwind of outgoing personalities that starkly contrasted my own. I thought I could change, becoming a monster that fed an attention and self-aggrandizement. Even without this, I would have to battle my personal introversion, which turned contact with strangers into a nerve-wracking experience for me.
After finding out I landed the role of the soprano 'Constance', I could not yelp with glee; I was too wary of all the hurdles I would have to climb. I had seen how the theater director sternly reproached his students when they missed a beat. I had watched the drama students communicate in their native tongue of rhyme and song. Now, I would learn to survive in this foreign terrain!
It was the first day of practice. I looked all over the place for my tongue but could not find it--I was nearly mute. In the changing room, the lead soprano was grooming her feathers and practicing her trills; meanwhile, the director was rendering masterfully intimidating arpeggios. Suddenly, we were all asked to gather around the piano. In this strange new environment, we all began to sing. As a soprano, I was an essential component to the unity of the piece; this belief would slowly give me the confidence to find my tongue.
For the first month, I was a prisoner of nerves as the rehearsals drew near at the end of each day. I would shy away to the bathroom, breathe deeply, and tell myself to feel comfortable with new people and embrace the scrutiny of the critical stage lights. Soon enough, however, theater itself set me free. For almost the first time in my life, I was truly understanding the extrovert and engaging in foolish acts of humor. I sang, danced, and pantomimed through the hallways without a fear of being heard or seen. I learned how to bounce from the confines of my personality into the character I was interpreting. Overall, I allowed myself to step out of my insecurities; no longer would I mind speaking in front of an audience nor approaching absolute strangers. Drama had given me a strength I had hidden away most of my life.
As soon as the curtains closed on my first performance, I felt a triumphant rush of joy. Jessie was right; I would never be the same again.
For me, the actor is a brave soul, willing to expose his or her weaknesses to the perceptive and penetrating stage lights. However, it is a risk that one can only gain from. In life, we must learn to probe through our greatest anxieties. It is there where we find the courage to grow both inward and outward. Today, when I am faced with the observant, intimidating light of everyday experiences, I still take my distinctive deep breaths--but now I do so with acceptance and faith in my potential to persevere.
Oh, and if you have the time, please look into my "The Eight Grade Science Fair" essay! Thanks in advance :]