I have never had a musical bone in my body. I listened to music just like the next angst-filled teenager but I never had any inclination to learn to play music. This is primarily because I didn't think it possible. How could I, a tone-deaf teenager, learn to kill a solo like Jimi Hendrix or play at a mile-a-minute like Lynard Skynard? To tell the truth, I was intimidated and scared of failure. A lot of my friends are in bands and I often used to visit their homes and watch them 'jam' with their bands. I was in awe of the delicate intros and solos and the rough and heavy riffs. I remember my jaw hanging for minutes at a time as I watched them fill the room with the sounds of angels. I also remember listening to my favorite songs and imagining myself on stage with thousands of adoring fans at my feet. I aspired to be like my friends but I always let my aspiration remain just that.
But I needed CAS hours for the IB diploma and I had been planning on learning something new for a while. When one of my friends suggested I pick up the guitar, I initially scoffed at the idea. Yeah right, like I could play the guitar. But after hours of persuasion, I reluctantly gave in. I was going to learn to play the instrument that had brought me so much joy in the past. I was going to tread into unknown waters. A couple weeks later and I was on the verge of giving up. I knew about the dexterity and the practice it takes to learn the instrument but I had no idea about the actual physical pain involved. Every half hour, my finger would start throbbing and I could see the huge grooves that the sharp, metallic strings had made on them. And the physical pain couldn't even compare to the mental frustration that I was going through. The book said to play this chord with these finger, but why does it sound like the bawling of a child? Why can't I play a simple tune? Never mind my family, even I could stand my own music. I could take a derivative, solve the most complex of conservation of energy problems but I couldn't keep a simple rhythm. My friends told me to stick in there and that the pain would go away and I would be able to play like them soon. Firstly, I didn't believe them. And even if I did, why would go through all that trouble and spend so much time on this six-stringed monster? Einstein didn't play guitar. I was about quit, just like I had done so many other times in my life.
But I decided to stick with it for just a little while more. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. So many others could, what separates me from them? If I gave up now, I would never start again. Besides, I had already spent so much time on it and learned practically nothing, if I quit now, it would all have been a waste of time. But more convincing than anything was the image in the back of my head of me 'melting' people's faces off with a solo that transcends normal human ability. This image had faded but, like an old faithful dog, it persisted. The old saying that it gets harder before it gets easier has never rung more true. My fingers still hurt every chord I played and I didn't seem to be getting much better. But then, a transformation slowly but steadily occurred. My fingers started developing calluses which made me immune to the pain. Being able to play freely without having to feel the throbbing was exhilarating. I began playing more and more and my chords started sounding more like music than plates crashing. It was the perfect release after a tough day of school and it helped me gather my thoughts and have a few moments of calm and sanity in this ever-changing world. When I picked up my guitar, I was in a world of my own. Everything else, grades, conflicts etc. seemed irrelevant. I had done the hard work and now I was reaping the rewards. While I might not be playing in front of millions of fans, which I can now accept is probably not going to happen, I can say that I persevered and gained a lot from it.
Since the prompt was not posted with this essay, I can edit for grammar and mechanics only:
Your essay flows well and your transitions are smooth. It's organized, but you could talk a little bit more at the end about what you gained from this whole experience. Keep up the good work.
I don't know if the second paragraph would be a good choice for an admissions essay; you never know if the person reading your essay is a devout christian
Good point. Why would that change the essay though?
Well, it is a very controversial topic, and the reality is that some people who are devout in their faith are also very educated and successful (i.e. the person reading your essay or someone who ultimately decides if you enter the college.) The tone of the second paragraph is kind of condescending towards those who still aren't "educated enough to give up medieval beliefs and accept proven facts," as you said it. It does show you are passionate about something, but be careful when you don't know exactly who your audience may be.
You are right, and while "I" did not write the paper, "I" do not know what the prompt/requirements were, so I cannot agree or disagree with your opinion. There are situations where this response would be appropriate and times when it would not be, but if it were an admissions paper (as you insist), unless it were a religious school, their personal opinions about the subject matter should not (in theory) play into the admissions process.
