I chose the first prompt from the common app's list which is "Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you."
Here's my essay:
When I was eight years old, I almost died. At least, this is what I told everyone for about two years after I fell into the creek. I was eight and quite prone to exaggeration. At the time, I was living in a suburb of Pittsburg, when my friend, Rob, and I decided it would be fun to play in our neighborhood creek during a particularly nasty rainstorm. When we arrived, the rain was coming down in sheets and our peaceful little brook was replaced with a river, but we weren't worried. We had trekked up and down the creek countless times under better conditions. What was a little rain?
Rob was a few years older than I, and in an effort to impress him, I told him I was going into the water to see how hard it was to wade upstream. So without a second thought I hopped right into the waist-high, muddy water and barely managed to hold my ground. The feel of the cold creek water rushing past my legs was exhilarating.
Ignoring what little common sense I had, I began trudging upstream and managed to get about five feet before I stepped on a loose, slippery rock and lost my balance. Then I was on my back, completely at the mercy of the enraged creek. I struggled to keep my head above water, catching glimpses of Rob running down the bank and trying to think of a way he could help. He then grabbed a thorn bush on the edge of the water and dove in after me. Panicked and awestruck at Rob's willingness to forget pain and fear to save me, I grabbed his outstretched hand. Together, we climbed over the bush and onto shore.
Exhausted and still in shock, I lay on the ground as the rain still poured on my face. I managed to get my bearings and sit up only to start sobbing. The creek had washed away my shoes; the walk through a quarter mile of woods back to my house was not going to be fun. I turned to notice that Rob, smiling and bloodied, was offering me his shoes.
Two years after Rob pulled me out of that creek, I legitimately thought that I would have died if he had not been there; now, it seems a bit silly to think that that creek could have killed me, but the sentiment still stands. Rob put himself in immediate danger to pull me out of it. This is his legacy, and it has changed me.
Prior to the incident, I was not a particularly good friend. I distinctly remember spending much of my early childhood as selfish, irritable, and sometimes even mean, but most of all, I didn't really know how friendship even worked. In a sense, I saw my friends as toys, someone to have fun with but not really take seriously. I enjoyed having friends but in a selfish way; I never thought about my friendships from the other person's point of view. I saw friendships as petty, and all it took was a traumatic event and an act of heroism to see things differently.
Rob's actions gave me a new respect for friendship as an idea. It suddenly went beyond mere entertainment; it became about respect and a willingness to aid one another. Rob unknowingly taught me how to be a better friend and person in general. And in his honor, I now hold my friends in high esteem and feel deeply loyal to all of them. I am always willing to make personal sacrifices for each of their sakes. I try to be there for my friends whenever they need me, because (as trite as it sounds) I would be nowhere without them. I experienced what a truly good friend is capable of that day, and I've tried to model myself off of this ideal ever since.
Yeah I know it's cheesy, but the college people I've spoken to didn't mind. Criticism is welcome and encouraged. Thanks!
Here's my essay:
When I was eight years old, I almost died. At least, this is what I told everyone for about two years after I fell into the creek. I was eight and quite prone to exaggeration. At the time, I was living in a suburb of Pittsburg, when my friend, Rob, and I decided it would be fun to play in our neighborhood creek during a particularly nasty rainstorm. When we arrived, the rain was coming down in sheets and our peaceful little brook was replaced with a river, but we weren't worried. We had trekked up and down the creek countless times under better conditions. What was a little rain?
Rob was a few years older than I, and in an effort to impress him, I told him I was going into the water to see how hard it was to wade upstream. So without a second thought I hopped right into the waist-high, muddy water and barely managed to hold my ground. The feel of the cold creek water rushing past my legs was exhilarating.
Ignoring what little common sense I had, I began trudging upstream and managed to get about five feet before I stepped on a loose, slippery rock and lost my balance. Then I was on my back, completely at the mercy of the enraged creek. I struggled to keep my head above water, catching glimpses of Rob running down the bank and trying to think of a way he could help. He then grabbed a thorn bush on the edge of the water and dove in after me. Panicked and awestruck at Rob's willingness to forget pain and fear to save me, I grabbed his outstretched hand. Together, we climbed over the bush and onto shore.
Exhausted and still in shock, I lay on the ground as the rain still poured on my face. I managed to get my bearings and sit up only to start sobbing. The creek had washed away my shoes; the walk through a quarter mile of woods back to my house was not going to be fun. I turned to notice that Rob, smiling and bloodied, was offering me his shoes.
Two years after Rob pulled me out of that creek, I legitimately thought that I would have died if he had not been there; now, it seems a bit silly to think that that creek could have killed me, but the sentiment still stands. Rob put himself in immediate danger to pull me out of it. This is his legacy, and it has changed me.
Prior to the incident, I was not a particularly good friend. I distinctly remember spending much of my early childhood as selfish, irritable, and sometimes even mean, but most of all, I didn't really know how friendship even worked. In a sense, I saw my friends as toys, someone to have fun with but not really take seriously. I enjoyed having friends but in a selfish way; I never thought about my friendships from the other person's point of view. I saw friendships as petty, and all it took was a traumatic event and an act of heroism to see things differently.
Rob's actions gave me a new respect for friendship as an idea. It suddenly went beyond mere entertainment; it became about respect and a willingness to aid one another. Rob unknowingly taught me how to be a better friend and person in general. And in his honor, I now hold my friends in high esteem and feel deeply loyal to all of them. I am always willing to make personal sacrifices for each of their sakes. I try to be there for my friends whenever they need me, because (as trite as it sounds) I would be nowhere without them. I experienced what a truly good friend is capable of that day, and I've tried to model myself off of this ideal ever since.
Yeah I know it's cheesy, but the college people I've spoken to didn't mind. Criticism is welcome and encouraged. Thanks!
