this is my personal essay for common app. any feedback is greatly appreciated!! is there too abrupt a transition between my descriptions and my main points?
My ba ngoai sits in a cracked wooden chair, sipping on chai. I watch as the warmth of the tea fills the room, floating from the smooth rim of the porcelain mug to the deep-set wrinkles engraved in her face. They are a catalog of her life, reflecting every experience, every loss, every joy. The house opens into an old alley, and she gazes past the mosquito netting into a sea of brown-roads, air, skin. Her deep brown eyes squint pensively through panes of glass; these eyes were hardened by things like war, like scarcity, like sending children across the ocean, but softened by peace and unconditional love. These eyes are deep brown, just like mine. Her hand reaches out to grab a small lychee, wavering as she plucks it from the vine. With that hand, she carries the weight of eternity; such is the consequence of having sacrificed your family in hopes of a better future. Her seventy-two-year-old palms are eroded from the splatters of cooking oil, the handles of shovels, and the grips of thirteen children.
We arrive at Cho Ben Thanh and a wave of scents envelopes us. All at once come the tides of cooled lobster and pungent durian, colliding with the aromas of ambrosial yet fiery curry spices that all but mask a hidden whiff of ripe jackfruit. The market is one body, oscillating with the movement of brown skin against weathered shops. In an endless throng of tanned skin and black hair, I wade three-quarters deep, a giant, a foreigner, an outsider overcome with awe. My ba ngoai takes my hand, saying more with a gentle squeeze than she could have with a thousand words. Pointing to a Vietnamese girl my age examining a palm-sized, antique brass bicycle, she whispers in broken tongue, "Look. She likes old things. Just like you." She then motions to a young boy eating warm soup. "Look. He puts mint leaves in his food. Just like you." I am more similar to these people than I think. My ba ngoai knows. She smiles as she tells me that I have the same penchant for hard work, I have the same moral standards, I eat the same foods. Suddenly, I do not feel so misplaced.
The family farm lies a few miles away, separated from the neighbors' land by a trickling stream and a thin-wired fence. As we walk through the pineapple bushes and the banana trees, I see the hard work my ba ngoai has put into raising a farm, a family, and a legacy. She reaches down to weed the overgrown cabbage patch; her seventy-two-year-old palms do not mind. The air smells of cleanliness and must, of ocean and earth, of new and old, of life and death. Vietnam is a soft reminder of a oneness inherent in the winding earthen roads. But as I look at my ba ngoai and the toil that she has put into her accomplishments, I realize that underneath the façade of simplicity is a tradition-built character in not only my grandmother but also in the people of Vietnam as a whole. The pride my ba ngoai has in her work and the success of her family is familiar to me. That cultural dignity has been passed down to my mother, and I now find traces of it within myself. Her travails have been far from fruitless; she has bestowed a piece of Vietnam onto me, and because of her, I realize that even though I was born an American, I was raised by Vietnamese, and that part of me will remain forever. Even though I dress differently and my broken tongue immediately pinpoints me as a foreigner in an ocean of brown, I still have black hair and I still have tan skin. Intrinsic in my upbringing is my sense of cultural identity, the stamp of distinctiveness that makes Vietnam, a tropical, underdeveloped, alien land that I have only visited once, feel like home. By showing me both external and personal views of Vietnam, my ba ngoai teaches me that in Vietnam there is a unity of purpose, which creates a tolerance for one another. There is a subtle acceptance of status and a respect for hard work, even at little profit. The earthen roads are a symbol of a less developed world, but also of the strong moral fiber that comes from threshing endless rice fields and polishing the amaranthine layer of dust collecting on unused china; they are a symbol of the strong character that has flourished for generations and has now been bequeathed to me. My ba ngoai knows.
I really liked your essay! Your descriptions are really vivid, but I think you should connect them to you a little more. Also, maybe it would help to break the essay up into paragraphs to more clearly illustrate the main points of your essay.
Awesome description-- I love the line
He is an army ant, pulling four times his weight and social class.
I agree with ragarasika-- break it up. Add paragraph breaks between the passage about your grandmother, the passage about the street ("Outside, I can hear the rumble of...") and the final passage about you.
It's a powerful piece about your heritage and your multi-faceted identity.
thanks guys!
I saw this essay and it just caught my eye!!
I love your descriptions, like some other people said they are very vivid, but also i've been to Vietnam too so it brings me back (hahah I was gonna write about my Ba Ngoai in my essay too!)
You words have a lot of weight, but I think you should add more about yourself- good luck!
you did an amazing job with the vivid descriptions and the essay definitely catches the eye of the reader! If at all, I would say work on the portion of the essay that describes who you are and how you have adapted the values and qualities of the Vietnamese in the context of America, as well. I hope this helps.
Please read mine if you have a chance:
Her seventy-two-year-old palms are eroded from the splatters of cooking oil, the handles of shovels, and the grips of thirteen children.
Hey, this is where I started to get really impressed. You should keep developing your skill, and really pursue writing seriously.
Wow, is this all one long paragraph? What is up with that? It makes it hard to follow and appreciate. Do a paragraph break every time you want the reader to pause and reflect for a moment.
In Vietnam are a unity of purpose and a tolerance of one another. -- I think is sentence is not a mistake, but it seems like a mistake. Know what I mean?
Great job! Use paragraphs, though!
Thank you very much for the suggestions!
I made a few small changes, but i didn't want to do too much to it, seeing as it is already 660 words..hopefully it is better now.
The roads are wild with the movement of brown flesh against brown roads. The labyrinth of tan pays tribute to the fleeting coincidence that I even exist-that amidst all of these people, my parents found each other. Evading police, fleeing the country, living as refugees-they found each other. I am the product of dubious chance, born in the US and raised by Vietnamese. In an endless throng of tanned skin and black hair, I wade three-quarters deep, a giant, a foreigner, an outsider overcome with awe. I dress differently and my broken tongue immediately pinpoints me as an American, but I still have black hair and I still have tan skin. Intrinsic in my upbringing is my sense of cultural identity , the stamp of distinctiveness that makes Vietnam, a tropical, underdeveloped, alien land that I have only visited once, feel like home.
Vietnam is a soft reminder of a simplicity and oneness inherent in the winding earthen roads. The air smells of cleanliness and must, of ocean and earth, of new and old, of life and death. In Vietnam there is a unity of purpose, which creates a tolerance for one another. There is a subtle acceptance of status and a respect for hard work and toil, even at little profit. The earthen roads are a symbol of oppression and poverty, but also of the strong character that comes from threshing endless rice fields and polishing the amaranthine layer of dust collecting on unused china; they are a symbol of the strong character that has flourished for generations and has now been bequeathed to me. My ba ngoai knows.
Does this answer the prompt well enough? I revised my commonapp essay to fit applytexas..ANY feedback is helpful! please criticize!!!
Suddenly, I do not feel so misplaced.
Great sentence, Cindy. You have great mastery of this kind of art called writing. It is very fluid and eloquent.
In most cases, I would advise the writer to give a thesis statement in the first paragraph so that the essay can leave a poignant impression on the reader's mind -- transmit a clear message.
In this case, though, you slowly build momentum and come to your point at the end. At the end of this essay, I think it is important that you use some words to really make your point. A little revision might be necessary at the end. Does it all just amount to a morally strong, hard working culture you come from? Or can you add another dimension to this idea?
As everyone else has said, you have very vivid description and attract us to detail. However I feel that you are a bit wordy at times. The first paragraph appears almost as a series of lists. That may just be your style, but I don't think you want to beat the reader over the head with imagery, especially when that isn't the idea of the essay. It's about you. I think we all struggle with that aspect of these essays. You probably would like to say more than just the fact that you are a good writer.
It is a good essay, and as it stands they're bound to be impressed.
